Feel
by Isabella.Uley
Summary: As she took my hand into hers, I fell. And as she kissed me, she fell just as hard. SS/HG
1. Chapter 1: Overdosed

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter One: Overdosed

**Severus's POV**

I watched her stumble into the Great Hall; all but deserted by everyone but the two of us - at least at this moment. It was Christmas Holiday, and 99% of the student body had gone home to celebrate with their families, and 99% of the staff had as well. Tomorrow they would all be back, but for now it was about as barren a place any muggle who walked by would see.

She had come back to make up for her seventh year that was lost during the war, along with her friends Potter and Weasley, who were, needless to say, back at the Burrow where the Weasley's had lived for Merlin-only-knows how long. Why Granger – why Hermione had stayed – no one really knew, and it wasn't something she cared to talk about, not to anyone, even her closest friends.

I watched as she struggled to sit up right, an odd, loopy look on her face as she looked down at her hands, spread across the wood of the table, her eyebrows knitted together. In watching her I must have made a slight noise, because all of the sudden her gaze had drifted up to me.

"Professor Snape," she slurred. "Didn't realize you were here, sorry, thought I was alone." I looked down at her, a suspicious look on my face as I stood up and began my way towards her. "Oh, don't _look_ at me like that," she told me, turning her attention back to her hands. "I am not drunk, I am not stupid. It's the pain potion that Madame Pomfrey gave me. I tried to tell her she was giving me too much… The woman wouldn't listen, saying: _you may be miss goody-two-shoes who knows everything but I am the professional here and I know what I am doing!_ Honestly," she said while bringing her hands up and cupping them over her face. "I haven't been able to focus for hours, I can't even walk straight. And it's like I am walking on air. I mean, yes, I am grateful that that _blasted_ migraine is finally gone, but I can't say if this is any much better," she went on, dropping her hands and looking over at me as I sat down on the bench beside her. "I mean I am not joking you Professor, I can't feel a thing!" she told me as she reached her hand out and wrapped it around mine. She pulled it against her stomach and held it in both her hands, looking up at me with glazy, bloodshot eyes. "I can't _feel_ it."

But I could… I could feel the soft skin of her hands, the warmth, the smoothness of them as they held mine tightly in hers. I had never felt anything so… so strong in my entire life. I had never touched her before, never been touched _by_ her before. As she held my hand between hers… it felt like I had held her hand a million times before. Electricity was racing up my arm, sending my heart into overdrive. I couldn't look away from her; I couldn't force myself to if I wanted.

"You're high," I told her after a moment, swallowing down the lump in my throat. "It is not a frequent happening with the potions we have, the only potion I know of that causes it is Felix Felicis; the luck potion. Poppy must have really overdosed you. How much pain were you in?" The internal struggle I had to keep my free hand down, and not raise it and run it along the side of her face took all the strength I had. But it couldn't mean… surly her merely taking my hand into hers, holding it there… the feelings it filled me with… surly that couldn't mean, it didn't mean that I _loved _her?

"Felix Felicis?" she mused. "Yes, heard of that one. Harry had to take it back in sixth year to talk to Hagrid – won it from Slughorn in class for being best… _bastard_," she added under her breath. "Anyways, it is horrible. I hate it. I hate this feeling, you were potions teacher for years, Professor Snape, please," she begged, scooting closer towards me on the bench, her eyes pleading. I knew she wouldn't have done otherwise if she weren't so high from the overdose of potion, but she dropped herself into my chest, and my heart nearly stopped. She smelled like honey and roses. "Please tell me there is something you can do, Professor," she asked again, nuzzling her head into the crook of my neck.

This was wrong… I was her professor… her much older, well, not _that_ much older, professor… we shouldn't be doing this… no one was around…

_Merlin. _I forced back a moan, the desire to wrap my arms around her and not let go filled me, fought with me. It was all I could do to stop myself.

"I am sorry, Miss Granger," I told her with a rather unsteady voice. "But if there was anything I could do, I do not know of it, and," I added, looking down at her and breathing in her sweet scent. "Besides, even if I _did_ know something to reverse it, the risk of your pain coming back tenfold would be too great, and I would _not_ risk that."

"You've always loved my suffering in the past," she told me. "Mine, Harry's and Ron's," she went on. "What is the different now?" she pulled her head away from me and looked up at me expectantly.

God. Her beauty… it radiated sunlight.

I couldn't stop myself; I took my hand and ran it down the length of the back of her head, brushing my fingers through her silky hair. I loved her. I loved her, I loved her, I loved her.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head into my hand. "Mm," she hummed. "That feels good… Please don't stop." It killed me to no end knowing the moment the potion began to leave her system, she would regret all of this, remembering it, and hate herself for it. "It's like I've gone from feeling _nothing_," she told me, partially opening her eyes, "to feeling _everything._" She looked up at me, smiling. "And it feels absolutely amazing."

I shouldn't be doing any of this… this was so wrong… so wrong… so bloody wrong… But it felt _so completely right…_

"It's because," I said softly. "The potion is at its high point right now, it is at its strongest."

"Okay," she breathed. "Now I get it… Now I get why people like this feeling, it is amazing. Oh," she added quickly, looking up at me pleadingly. "Don't tell Harry," she begged me. "Or Ron… or Ginny, Neville, Seamus… Just don't tell anyone, please. I don't know what they would think of me if they knew how much I was enjoying this," I wanted to ask what, what was she enjoying so much? The feeling of every nerve ending in her body being a livewire, or the feeling of me… toughing her, caressing her and holding her against me…

"I promise," was all I am able to manage.

"Thank you," she told me with a smile, placing her hands onto my shoulders. She looked down to my lips, her smile slowly fading, and my worst thought screamed inside my head: it is leaving her system; she is realizing what she is doing… What should I do? I had to think fast, come up with an excuse as to what I was doing with her, touching her and holding her like this, but before I had a chance to come up with anything, she was stretching up on the bench and leaning her face in towards mine. She licked her lips slowly, looking up into my eyes, and whispered, "I wonder…" Her lips were on mine; her hands cupped around the back of my head, holding my lips to hers. I slid my hands from her sides and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against me.

She opened her mouth for me and pulled herself into my lap, straddling me. With my tongue dancing in her mouth, I slowly ran my hands down her back and took her ass into my hands, pulling her tighter against me still. She moaned as our sexes touched, pressing herself more firmly against me and slowly pushing her hips into mine. I gasped, moaned into her mouth, and began doing the same with my own hips. "So… good…" she breathed, breaking our kiss, and slowly leaning away from me.

The way she kept her hands wrapped around the back of my head, the way she looked at me… it took away all the fears I had, and confirmed only my own feelings: she loved me, too.

She leaned her lips into mine once more, kissing me tenderly. She then leaned her forehead against mine, smiling. "After all these years," she whispered, leaning in to kiss me once more. "Professor Snape," it was like she was saying it, _I love you_, without really saying it.

She left then, pulling herself away from me and off the bench. I watched as she stumbled from the Great Hall, not looking back once, but I couldn't even blink as she left, not wanting to miss even a second of seeing her.

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"All right students," I said the next morning, brushing my hands together after finishing writing the days' lesson on the black board. "Christmas Holliday is over, so no fooling around. Wands away, read the assignment, and begin," I told them. "If you have any questions, read the book and stay quiet."

The door was pushed open, and in she rushed, her bag hung heavily at her shoulder as she dropped down at the only remaining seat: the one directly in front of my desk. She pulled out her book. "I'm sorry Professor, I had to see Madam Pomfrey before class about a last minute thing," she explained, reaching into the inside pocket of her robe. "I have a note," she thrust it into the air, and as I took it from her, our fingers brushed.

"Very well," I said, turning away from her and walking up to sit behind my desk. I set the note down and was ready to dismiss it when a familiar scrawl caught my eye, and I took the note back into my hand and read it more closely: _Sorry I am late, I couldn't stop thinking about yesterday… maybe you could give me a private detention sometime..?_

When I looked down at her again, she was smiling.

"Yes," I cleared my throat, hiding my answer in my words. "Miss Granger, you will see the assignment on the board, you may begin with the rest of the class."

Her smile widened, and I hid my own behind a very large and bulky book, that I lifted up and placed in front of my face.

**To be continued...**


	2. Chapter 2: Her Punishment

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Two: Her Punishment

**Severus's POV**

"Poppy," I began as I strode, my voice full of authority, into the Hospital Wing. "I do not know why you always insist on going against my exact requests," I placed my hands on my hips as I stood beside her, who stood before Hermione - sitting on the side of a cot - pouring thick purple liquid into a glass vial. "Granger was given detention for a reason, and when she did not show up when it began _fifteen minutes ago _it has taken me _ten _of those minutes to track her down. Can't this have waited until tomorrow _before _classes began?"

"Your job here, Severus," she began and she screwed back on the lid to the potion. "Is to teach, to discipline, and to keep order of your house, which does not involve any of Gryffindor," she sighed impatiently. "_My_ job, however, it to tend to the sick, injured and unhealthy of all the houses. And, Miss Granger here has been suffering as of late from chronic migraines. So, she came to me for some help before going to her detention, even though last time, I apparently helped _too_ much."

I looked down at Hermione, and noticed how she made it a point to keep her eyes averted from mine as she spoke. "I was going to bring a note," she told me. "If I am fifteen minutes late, then keep me an extra thirty, an extra sixty, really professor, I don't care how long I have to stay, so long as by the time I _do_ get there this _blasted_ pain will be _gone_," she held the palm of her hand firmly against the right side of her head.

"Oh you will, Miss Granger," I told her severely. "Pain or not, when I give a student detention or a task of any sort I expect them to do as they are told no matter what," I said. "Luckily for you, however, there are no other students with detention tonight, so I am going to stay with you so you don't go sneaking off anywhere after Poppy is done with you," I crossed my arms over my chest, looking down at her and wanting nothing more than to bend down to her, lean her back against the cot and lay atop her, kissing her endlessly.

"She will be done as soon as she drinks that down," Poppy indicated towards the vial containing the thick, sweet scented liquid. "And then that immediately after," she said, pointing to a smaller vial containing a deep blue liquid that smelled bitter. "It won't taste good, but it will help to make the first work faster and stronger." She gathered up her belongings, holding them against her chest. "Stay with her and make sure she drinks it all, I have some work to do before heading to bed, and last time she put up a fight," she nodded, looking at Hermione sternly before turning on heel and walking off in the other direction.

I waited until I heard the familiar sound of her office door click shut, and took the place of where Poppy had been standing, in front of Hermione. At last, those beautiful almond eyes looked up at me.

"Is it really that bad?" I asked her gently. I wanted to grace my finger down the side of her cheek, but thought better of it, because you never knew when someone might burst in. It was, after all, the Hospital Wing.

"It's horrible," she whined. "It's worse than horrible, it tastes like dirt and lemon, mixed with salt and licorice, and not the good kind," she let out a huff, taking the vial containing the purple liquid into her hand. "But anything is better than my head splitting open," and she threw her head back, downing it in three large gulps. "Alright, Polyjuice potion is better. Uck," she made a disgusted noise while reaching out to grab the blue one. She threw her head back and quickly downed it in one and a half swallows.

"Are you all better now?" I asked her, unable to keep the smile off my lips. She was just so adorable when she made those little faces. She ran the back of her hand across her lips, nodding her head. "Good, now, we have a very important detention to get to," I had to stop myself from extending my hands towards hers.

"Precisely," she nodded as she pulled herself away from the cot. "By the time we get there, this taste will be out of my mouth, and my head will be pain free, and so I will be able to focus once again…maybe…"

The corridor was completely empty and dimly lit as we made our way to the floor below the Hospital Wing, and that is when I took my chance. I wrapped her hand into mine and set her on the edge of one of the small stone tables lining the walls; it was empty and served perfectly for a makeshift bench. She looked over at me, smiling with glossy eyes as I placed my hands on either side of her face, running my thumbs over her cheeks. "I never got a chance to tell you yesterday," I told her softly, leaning in towards her, "how exquisitely beautiful you are, Miss Granger," I leaned my lips down, kissing her tenderly.

"Professor Snape," she smiled as I pulled my lips back to look at her, keeping my hands on the sides of her face. "You're making me blush," she turned her head to the side, casting it downward. I took her chin in my hand and gently lifted her head to face me. We looked at each other silently, drinking each other in. "No one has ever said anything like that to me before; let alone said I was beautiful," she admitted, running her hands into my hair. She leaned forward, kissing my lips.

I slowly pulled my lips from hers and pulled myself to stand. She kept her fingers looped around the front of my pants, looking up at me with a smile; her knees wrapped around my hips. "Now, what is my punishment, Professor Snape?" she asked me. "First I was late for class this morning, a _very_ bad no-no for Professor Snape, and to top that off, I was _even_ late to the detention he assigned for me… Late for being late. I have been _very_ bad since the end of Holiday; wouldn't you say so, Professor?"

"You have been," I told her, stepping closer towards her and running my hand over her head. "Entirely naughty, Miss Granger… I just don't know if there is punishment enough for your bad behavior and obvious disrespect to authority."

I took her hand in mine, pulling her from the stone table. Her body slammed into mine as she jumped down, and she stretched her hands up my chest, lacing he fingers together behind my neck. She reached up to her tip toes, just grazing her lips over mine. "Well then, Professor, what _is_ my punishment?" she grazed her lips over mine once more, not allowing me to kiss her any deeper.

I took her hands into mine, pulling them away from my neck. I dropped one of them and held the other with our fingers laced together, leading her through the corridors towards my office. "Ladies first," I told her as we reached my door, and I pulled it open, gesturing with my hand for her to go before me. "Can't have you running off on me," I teased as I pulled the heavy oak door closed behind me after following her inside. With my back still facing her, I contemplated locking the door: if anyone were to come in and see us… But no, I decided, there was a lock to my private rooms, which was lead to through my Office, so if anyone did come in, I could just easily say we were in the office discussing disobedience and proper discipline.

When I turned around my breath caught in my throat. She was sitting on my desk, her legs spread just enough to see the black and red lace thong she had on under her skirt, and the matching garter belt which held up her uniform stockings. The look on her face told me she was completely unaware of this, so I took all the strength I had to keep it that way. I strode over to her casually, breathing evenly and forcing my lust down.

I had been raised with the belief that love and lust went hand-in-hand; there was no lust without love, and vise-versa: if you loved someone enough, you would want to be with them, body, mind and soul, but if you did not love someone, then there could be none of that, because it would mean nothing. So, to see the woman I loved so dearly, so deeply and completely and unconditionally, spread out for me and looking so breathtakingly beautiful, and her heart beating for me alone… it was hard to keep things slow.

All role-playing aside, this was the woman I loved, and I gave her this detention to be able to show her just how much; to be able to hold her, to kiss her, to appreciate her and get to know inside her soul. I wanted to know everything about her, and I wanted to tell her every day how much she meant to me.

"Your punishment," I told her softly as I reached her, wrapping my arms around her. "Is to tell me your life story; I want to know everything about you. Places you want to visit, your favorite books. I want to know what your favorite time of day is and what your favorite season is. What holiday brings you most joy and what animal you love most and what decade you favor," I told her, running the tips of my fingers across her forehead to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes. "And I want you to tell me everything that has ever made you sad, everything that has made you hurt; made you cry. I want to know what you are scared of. And while you are telling me all these things, I want to lay on my bad with you, and hold you in my arms."

The playfulness was gone from her face, and she looked up at me with seriousness, leaning forward to kiss me. "Anything you want to know," she whispered, taking my hand into hers, "I will tell you, Severus," I ran my hand across her cheek once more before leaning my lips back to hers, and then pressed them softly to her forehead, where she leaned delicately into my touch.

I helped her down from my desk, and led the way into my office. She was standing behind me, waiting patiently as I unlocked the door to my private rooms. I smiled back at her, and opened the door, gesturing for her to go on inside, and that I would be right behind her. As she passed me, I stopped her and took her face between my hands, kissing her once more.

Locking the door behind me, I followed her over to my bed.

**To be continued…?**

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**Author's Note: **I added a '?' there after 'to be continued', because I would like to know what you think. Do you think that I should continue on with this story? Please leave your input in a review. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3: Knowing Hermione

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Three: Knowing Hermione

**Severus's POV**

"Wait," she said as I began walking over to my bed. I looked back to her in confusion to find her playing with her fingers, her head hung in the air as she looked towards her feet. "I know that we only just got together, and that we should take it slow, and I want to…" she began slowly, looking over at me. "But I… I want to feel close to you," she walked over to me, running her hands over my stomach and up to my chest. "Severus… I want to feel your skin against mine."

I looked down at her in awe, running my hand over the back of her head. I leaned down, kissing her softly on the lips. "Anything you want, my love," taking her hand in mine, I led her over to my bed.

"May I?" I asked her, looking down at her shirt, then back to her eyes. She nodded, and I smiled as I took my hands to the top of her shirt and began opening the buttons of it. I inhaled a deep breath, exposing her bra: bright red silk, overlaid with black floral lace; the straps thin black silk. I gently laid her shirt onto the foot of my bed, and began working at the zipper of her skirt at the side of her hip, slowly pulling it down. It dropped to the floor, where she stepped out of it. She stood before me in her bra, matching thong, garter belt and stockings. I had never seen anything so sexy, anything so beautiful, in my entire life. She tugged at the base of her hair nervously, as I just stood there, staring: my heart rate fast.

Before I was able to go any further, she reached her hand up and began unbuttoning my cloak, letting it drop to the floor beside her skirt as she finished. Biting her bottom lip, she began at work with my white button-up, where that too, ended up on the floor beside our other disregarded clothes. I heard her suck in a breath of air, running the palm of her hand over my bare chest. "I hadn't realized," she said, completely entranced by my chest. "How lean you were… I imagined you would have chest hair. But you're completely smooth… you even have a six-pack," she added, trailing her hand further down my stomach, kissing my abs with the tips of her fingers.

I watched as her hand trailed further down my stomach, to my pant line. With both hands she pulled apart the button, unzipping the slacks slowly, and letting them fall to the floor.

Apart from our socks, my boxers and her lingerie and stockings, we were completely exposed.

She took my hand, sandwiching it between hers and leading us to my bed, where she leaned back and began to crawl backwards, on her back, and I following her, holding myself over her as we slowly made our way to the head of my bed. She laid her head onto a pillow, looking over at me as I laid myself down beside her; our bodies pressed together as we lay with our sides against the mattress. I reached down, pulling up my black satin sheet and covering us beneath it. I took her hand in mine and kissed it softly, looking deeply into her glowing almond eyes.

"Have you ever fallen in love so fast," she said slowly, pulling herself closer against me still. "That by the time you realized it, you were already in the middle?"

I leaned forward and kissed her deeply, running my fingers into her hair. "If you had asked me that before yesterday," I told her while pressing my forehead against hers. "The answer would have been no, but now… Now I look at you, and I see no other life, than one with you. I love you, Hermione."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "And I you, Severus."

"Now," I said, settling back against the mattress and pulling her into my chest, wrapping her into my arms. "I believe you have a detention to fulfill."

"Ask me anything," she told me contentedly, running circles over my chest with her fingertips. "Do you want to know the good, the bad, or the unimportant first?"

"There is no unimportant, Hermione," I told her, kissing the top of her head. "Not with you."

She smiled up at me, hugging herself around me and wrapping her leg through mine. She told me everything I asked her: the good, the bad, and everything in between. She wanted to visit America and Canada and New Zealand and Russia and Germany. Her favorite color was the pink of sunset, her favorite season winter because of Christmas and snow. She loved peacocks the most, and any kind of reptile the least, because they scared her. Twilight was her favorite time of day; the time to think about the day that led up to it, and of the day that would soon come after.

She loved fiction books; romance's mostly; fantasy, historical fiction, horror, mysteries, suspense, young adult, science fiction, supernatural… anything but western's and Christian novels. She especially loved music from the nineteen-twenties to the thirties; jazz, mild-country, new age, alternative, rock, grunge, dance, instrumental, pop and opera. She disliked most rap and despised heavy metal or any sort of metal in general. Her favorite decade was the roaring twenties and the flappers. She loved diamonds, lapis lazuli, moonstones, rubies, pearls and sapphires. Her favorite kind of metal was silver, and she didn't like bronze because it turned your skin green.

Her favorite beverages were orange soda, cream soda, sweet tea and chocolate milk. She loved strawberry ice cream and cookies 'n cream ice cream, and her favorite types of chocolate were white and milk. And her favorite food above all others was pasta; Fettuccini Alfredo, in specific, with lots of sauce, with carrots, chicken and a lot of zucchini. Her favorite dessert was hot apple crisp and vanilla ice cream with caramel syrup, and a close second of cheese cake with raspberries and kiwi.

She loved taro bubble tea smoothies with tapioca balls, just as much as strawberry vanilla bubble tea with tapioca balls.

Her biggest fears were loosing the ones she loved, heights – which is why she hated flying – and big bodies of water. She was scared of the dark, but tried to hide it as best she could because she thought if people found out someone her age were afraid of it, she would be made fun of. Animals that were larger than her scared her, and she was terrified of thunder and lightening.

Her worst memory – the thing that made her hurt the most – was when her best friend, Isobel, killed herself. Remembering how her father's mother, Grandma Granger, didn't even recognize her for months before she died because of the dementia. Animals being abused made her sad, and people who were bullied made her sad. She cried when she saw animals being hunted and killed, and whenever her parents fought she cried. Thinking about Isobel, all of the memories she made with her, and how she could never make anymore, made her cry harder than anything else. And her biggest secret, the one thing she had never told another living soul about, was how her twin brother, Jeremy, had been killed by a hit-and-run when they were only three years old. She absolutely hated illegal drugs because that was how Isobel took her own life; by purposefully overdosing on heroin, and how the mere sound of the name alone made tears swell in her eyes. She hated violence and animals that lived under water.

She stopped suddenly, burying her face into my chest. "What is it?" I asked her, curious why she had stopped all of the sudden.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking back up at me. "I am probably talking your ear off."

"No," I told her," No, not at all… if anything, you aren't taking enough," I ran my hand to the back of her head, looking down at her lovingly. "Hermione, I love the sound of your voice. But if you'd like to take a break, you are more than welcome to," she smiled up at me, and brought her lips to mine.

I pushed myself up to rest my back against the headboard, and watched as she slid over to the side of the bed, where she bent forward and began removing her stockings and garter belt. Her hands reached around to her back and she unclasped her bra, setting it on the floor. As she stood, she slid out of her thong and walked around to the other side of the bed, towards the window. She stopped suddenly, looking over at me nervously. "Is it okay if I..?" she gestured towards the window.

I nodded. "I have it charmed; you can see out of it, but if anyone were to look up all they would see would be darkness," I told her with a smile. She smiled, dropping her fingers from her hair and continuing on in her stride to the window. She sat down on the window seat, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them as she looked up at the full moon; her naked body glowing silver-blue.

She was a goddess; an absolute angel. Her legs were smooth and slender, bent at a perfect forty-five degree angle at her knee. Her arms were thin and perfect; her flat stomach expanding and sinking in with each breath. Her breasts were perfectly rounded, perky with erect nipples. Her thin neck just the right size; her nose perfect and her face sculpted by that of an angel. I could not tear my eyes away from her.

She let out a sigh; her breasts jutting forward as her lungs filled with air, and she turned her head to face me, leaning the side of her head onto her knees. She smiled happily. "I believe you are staring, Professor Snape," she teased.

"It is rare to see an angel in one lifetime," I told her, keeping my gaze on her perfect form; her breathtaking face. "So when one is in the presence of one, it would be a sin to look away."

"Is that your way of calling me beautiful again, Professor Snape?" she asked me, pulling her head away from her knees, and turning to sit with her feet touching the ground. "Because if so, you are awfully good at it, and I beg you to never stop," I smiled, pulling the sheet away from me and crawling to the edge of the bed. I pushed myself to my feet, and walked over to her. "Speaking of angels," she whispered as I stopped in front of her. I placed my hand over her head, and watched as she leaned her face in towards my stomach, and began slowly kissing my abs.

She slowly pulled her lips from my stomach, and looked up at me. I took her hands into mine, and helped her to stand. I cupped her face between my hands, and kissed her deeply. As I pulled away, she was out of breath; trembling. "It's hardly fair," she breathed. "That only one of us has to be naked."

Kissing her deeply, I pushed down my boxers, kicking them across the room. "And I know what I said before," she added, looking up at me with nothing but love and trust. "About taking it slow - taking our time," she kissed me. "But when two people love each other, when they _really _love each other… There is no such thing as time, Severus."

She stepped closer towards me, and I felt my body react, brushing against her sex. We both let out a soft gasp, and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her shoulders. "Severus," she breathed, moaning to my touch. "Severus… I love you… Make love to me, Severus, make love to me…"

Keeping my lips against her skin, I lifted her from the floor, and carried her to my bed.

**To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4: Tortured and Forgotten

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Author's Warning: **This chapter contains torture and mild sexual situations; read with caution.

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**Feel**

Chapter Four: Tortured and Forgotten

**Hermione's POV**

I clutched my bag tightly against my side; my right hand pressed against the side of my head. I wanted to think about last night, about my amazing night with Severus; how we had opened up to each other about everything, given ourselves over to each other completely… But I just couldn't. The only thing I could focus on was the pain. It felt like my head was splitting, and it had only been getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. It seemed like no matter how much pain potion I took, how many sedatives I was given, how many therapies I tried… Nothing was working.

I pressed my hand against my head with more force; massaging the tips of my fingers against it, but, still, nothing.

"Hermione," I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hermione? Hello there, you listening to me?" I looked over to see Harry, looking down at me with an impatient expression, and excitement in his eyes.

"Yeah?" I asked softly, his voice coming across as cannons to my ears, exploding my brain. "What is it Harry?"

"I've only been talking to you since we left the Common Room," he informed me. "And I _had _thought you'd been listening. You weren't around last night, and I was really excited to tell you. I've got a date, remember? I told you just thirty seconds ago," he sighed. "The least you can be is be happy for me, as you are my best friend and I _am_ clearly happy about it."

"Oh," I lied, looking up at him through slanted eyes. "Of course: yes, congratulations Harry."

"You've no idea who it's with," it was not a question, but a statement. He hung his head in the air, shaking his head. "Luna?" he asked me, as if the name would spark a memory. "Luna Lovegood; we've been getting really close lately and I… Well, I really like her, so I asked her to go out with me, and she said yes. Turns out she's fancied me for a while, too," his smile was genuine, and I was genuinely happy for him. I just couldn't express it through the blinding pain. Still, I forced a smile.

"That's great, Harry," I told him as we rounded the last turn before reaching the Potions classroom. "But, I always thought you and Ginny would end up together. Not to say I am not any less happy for you; Luna is great."

"Yeah, well, about that… They haven't really talked about it, and didn't really want it to be advertised around the school but, remember back at the Yule Ball how she went with Neville?" I nodded. "Well, turns out they ended up really liking each other, and they've pretty much been an item since. Quite in love, actually," he added with a smile as we walked into the Potions classroom; Severus's back facing us as he wrote the days' lesson on the blackboard.

Harry let out a groan as we took a seat at a table together in the middle of the classroom. "Another review day; test on Friday," he shook his head, dropping his bag onto the floor at his feet. I slowly dropped myself onto the bench, dropping my bag and sliding my head between both my hands with my elbows on the desk. I kept my face downwards towards the table; eyes shut. "Hermione?" he asked softly, concern in his voice as I felt his hand run across my back and cup over my shoulder. "Are you all right?"

I nodded, and then quickly changed my mind about lying. "No," I told him. "No, Harry… Harry, it's my head. It's been like this for weeks… It just keeps getting _worse_," I hissed as a jolt of electric pain exploded through my skull. "Harry," I complained, grasping at his robe. "Harry, the noise – you've got to stop the noise!" it was buzzing in my ears; ringing like a thousand bells slamming against my skull, working to break it with every shrill note. Metallic scraping; laser hot flashes, blinding light of agony through closed lids.

I heard someone screaming, and felt as my body tumbled backwards, falling through empty air, and the light turned to darkness. And then there was nothing.

* * *

"…on every kind of potion I can think of at the moment!" I made out through the haze. "Pain, memory, sleep, muscle, brain, marrow, skeletal… You name it! Anything I can think of to ease the pain; to ease _whatever _it is she is suffering through!" Madam Pomfrey… It must have been Madam Pomfrey. I must be in the Hospital Wing.

I couldn't feel a thing; my vision was so bad all I could make out were blurred, fuzzy shapes; every one bleeding into the next. Color didn't even exist; it was all just one big unnamed shade of nothing.

"There has to be _more!_" another voice demanded angrily. "She said herself to Potter that this has been going on for _weeks!_" Severus… Severus… I tried to say him name, but all I could hear that sounded at all like my own voice was moaning, slurred and unintelligible, and barley loud enough for even my own ears to pick up. "This is your _job!_" he went on in a fury. "You're job to find out _what _is wrong and to _fix_ it! Not to just stand there thinking up ways to _ease the pain! _To _fix_ it!"

"And I _am!_" the voice of Pomfrey shot back. "I am _trying!_"

"And a splendid job you are doing!" he spat back. "Yes, yes, if you _were _we wouldn't be here having this _conversation!_ If you _were _Granger wouldn't be lying on a Hospital Cot, barley lucid and hanging in the balance of her mental state and physical wellness!"

"I am doing what I _can!_" she screeched.

"Well what you _can_ isn't good enough!" he barked. "Get a Healer over here, a _real_ Healer! Someone who is able to do and perform their job! Leave your bloody pride to the side and send for someone who can help her! Or so help me we will need a Healer for two patients!" I heard footsteps clattering away; echoing, like in old movies that were playing a scene in slow motion for dramatization. A door slammed, echoing in the same manner of the footsteps, and the voices were gone, filling my ears with humming silence.

I swallowed, and was surprised to find how moist my mouth was. I ran my tongue over my lips, still to discover I felt nothing. "Sever…" I tried again, weakly, to call his name. "Sev… er… Sever…us…" I felt cold and itchy, despite the fact that I was completely numb. I felt alone. I felt completely and utterly alone, like the entire world had abandoned me to this state, and that, at this moment, scared me more than anything else. I felt my heart rate begin to quicken against my chest, and with all the strength I had I tried to move, to wriggle around, to twitch a finger or kick a leg… Something, something to indicate to myself that I was not dying.

Warmth covered my hand; surrounded my shoulder. "Hermione," he whispered, _Severus _whispered. "Darling, please, please try to keep still. I know you're afraid," he cooed as the warmth blanketed my forehead. "But I'm here: I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I have been fighting for you this whole time; I haven't been more than a few feet away from you."

I wanted to _feel_. I wanted to _see_. Why couldn't I feel? Why couldn't I see? I wanted to feel his arms around me; I wanted to see his face above mine. I felt wetness against my cheeks, and warmth pass over the wet. "Oh, darling," he breathed. "Hermione, don't cry. Poppy, she's got you on a million different potions, the effect of taking them all at once and in such high quantities… Your body isn't used to it. _No body_ should be used to it… she panicked, and instead of contacting someone who could deal with what you are going through properly, she took matters into her own hands, and only made things worse for you. What she gave you… all at once… it has probably done more damage than good," he explained. "Oh, Hermione… _Hermione_…" I could just make out his figure, standing beside me with his hand around mine, and his head hung in the air. The form of him shook, as if he were fighting off his own tears. "I swear to you, we _will _cure whatever it is that is happening to you," he told me, and I could see as he brought my hand to his mouth, and just feel the warmth as he kissed it. "On my life, you will be healthy again," he told me. "I love you… I love you so much, Hermione."

Before I could respond - or at least try to - everything had faded away again, until there was nothing.

* * *

"_TELL ME!" the voice boomed from above, hovering over me menacingly. She laughed, slamming the toe of her pointed heel into the side of my thigh: cutting, the feeling of warm blood gushing from the assault._

"_Please," I begged her weakly though dry lips, lying broken on the wooden floor. "I don't know anything… Kill me… You'll just have to kill me."_

"_You would like that wouldn't you?" she demanded. "Kill you and all your little secrets die with you. Ha! Not that easy _Mudblood. _Draco!" she called. "Perhaps a little more motivation will get you talking?" the blonde appeared quickly beside her. "Always wanted to play with our little Mudblood here, haven't you?" she asked him, and I looked up in time to see a thick, gagged blade thrust into the boys hand. "Here's your chance, Draco," she told him pleasantly. "Make her what she is," she guided him towards me. "That's it, make mummy and daddy and aunt Bellatrix proud."_

_He dropped to his knees beside be, looking at me with a sickening amount of affection. "Granger," he sighed, running the tip of the blade over my chest. "The smart one: the one to always save everybody from peril," he laughed, brushing the blade over my throat. I looked over to see Bellatrix with her hands clasped at her throat, glee covering her face. "Now who is here to save you, Mudblood?" he wondered, ripping the scarf away from my neck and thrusting it across the room. "No ideas to save yourself, eh?" he wondered, smiling down at me as he began ripping at the buttons on my jacket, slowly, one by one. _

_Once each button had been torn off he ripped open my jacket, revealing a thin grey long sleeve, button less sweater, beneath. My arms were spread at my sides, too sore to move, too stiff to even try. He ran his tongue across his lips, tapping the side of the blade again his head. Smiling, he brought his hands down to my throat and effortlessly ripped apart my shirt, and shoved it open like he had my jacket. _

"_That's it Draco," his aunt cooed approvingly. "Enjoy your pet," he looked down at me - hunger and lust in his eyes. With the knife he slid it between my skin and bra, and ripped it up quickly, slicing my bra in half. He let out a breath, unsteady and filled with satisfaction as he parted the two halves across my chest, exposing my breasts. _

"_Much bigger than I would have imagined," he mused, slowly bringing his hand down and tracing the tips of his fingers across them; his nails scratching painfully over my nipples. He smiled, pulling his hand away. My breathing was heavy as I fought off tears._

"_Please," I begged him, meeting his eyes. "Don't do this, Draco… I don't know anything. I don't know anything, I promise you. Just let me go and I'll–" the back of his had slammed down across my face, silencing me. He laughed, jumping up and straddling himself over my hips. He set the blade vertically over my stomach, clutching a breast in each of his hands and squeezing painfully. I moaned in pain, biting my lower lip and squeezing my eyes shut. "Please!" I screamed and he pinched and twisted painfully. "I don't know anything!" his face was between my breasts, squeezing his face within them, biting painfully at the skin between them._

"_Harder Draco!" his aunt commanded him, and he pulled his face from my chest, and I felt as he pinched my nipples between his fingers, pulling them up roughly and twisting them quickly. I screamed in pain, and jerked upwards as I felt his teeth bite down on my left breast. I screamed again, thrashing and trying to free myself of him. I felt a hand slam across my face once more, and this time looked up to see that it had been his aunt, looking down at me furiously. "Bad girl!" she screeched, holding out a pointing finger. "Bad – Mudblood!_

"_Do it Draco!" she screamed. "There will be plenty of time for foreplay later! MAKE HER WHAT SHE IS!" he tore his mouth from my breast, and I looked up at him to see blood dribbling down his chin. "If she wont obey, MAKE HER WISH SHE HAD!" Draco smiled down at me, taking the blade in his hand and running his thumb over his chin to wipe away the blood. He looked at his bloody thumb, and then quickly thrust it down, shoving it into my mouth. "DO IT NOW!" she screamed again, her black and yellow rotting teeth smiling down on us._

_Draco slid himself down, so he was now lying on top of me. He smiled at me once, and brought my arm away from the floor, holding it across my bare breasts. He pressed the tip of the blade into my arm, and I screamed and thrashed as a burning stinging pain was carved into my arm. Bellatrix was on the floor at my head, holding my shoulders steady as he carved the blade deeper and deeper into my arm. _

_By the time he was done, he threw my arm back to the floor, and I felt as blood pooled rapidly around it on the floor: hot and sticky and smelling of strong salt and rust. _

"_Good boy," his aunt smiled, looking down at his handiwork and patting him on the back. "Now everyone will know what she_ really_ is_,"_ she continued, looking down at us. "Will you tell us where you got the sword, Mudblood?" her hands were on her hips, looking at me expectantly; I felt Draco's eyes on me as well, the blade still clutched in his grasp. I remained silent, finished repeating an answer they refused to believe. "Very well," she sighed. "As you wish. Draco," she extended her hand to his, and he placed the blade into her palm. "Foreplay is over – show her what happens to little Mudblood's when they lie." I watched as she walked away. _

"_Oh, and Draco," she added just before pulling the door closed behind her. "Don't forget when you are done, do the trick to make her forget. All of it," and she shoved the door closed, locking it behind her, leaving us alone together._

_I looked back over to him to find a smile on his face, and watched in paralyzing horror as he dropped his pants._

**To be continued… **


	5. Chapter 5: The Compelled

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Author's Warning: **This chapter contains torture and mild sexual situations; read with caution.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Five: The Compelled

**Severus's POV**

"So you say none of the potions you have tried have worked?" the Healer went on, his hands folded out in front of his chest as he passed back and forth in front of the fire. "That they have done nothing but cause temporary relief from this pain; these migraines, which, to me, do not sound to have any muggle source. If they had, if it had been a cancer or a brain hemorrhage one of the potions would have cured it by now, not made it worse, which, it has, 'else I would not be here.

"I struggle to say what I am thinking of, for it is so rare it is hardly ever even heard of in these modern days, let along talked about. I have not heard of a case of which I am thinking of for thousands of years; since modern magic was founded and practiced."

"Well?" Poppy pressed. "What is it?"

"You don't mean compulsion?" I asked them, piecing together what bits of information I knew. The Healer nodded, allowing me to continue on with what I knew of it. "Compulsion is very old, and very risky. It does not take modern magic, or magic at all, really. It is an herbal practice, with a few potions, but so little potion that it isn't high up enough to be called magic.

"It is so simple to do, that to practice it alone is a risk not only because of its simplicity, but because of its fragility as well.

Compulsion is what some do to make others forget certain happenings from their life, and, if I remember correctly… Miss Granger was captured and tortured during the war. She has never spoken of it, nor has she ever shown any signs of even knowing what happened while she was in custody.

"To use compulsion you must take a hair from yourself, and a hair from the one whom you wish to use the compulsion on. That, and with a simple mixture of plants and herms, some memory potions… You force the person to drink the mixture while also drinking your own: the one doing the compelling drinks the one with the hair from the person they're compelling, and the compelled must drink the one containing the hair of the person who is to compel them. After that, you simply tell them what they need to forget. And it does work, but, however, only for as long the compelled person does not think about that missing time. When they realize they are missing parts of their memory they will dig within their brain to try and remember, and the harder they dig, the bigger the risk of that wall of compulsion to crumble is. That must be–" a shrill scream cut me off, echoing off the walls. The three of us – Poppy, the Healer who refused to be named, and myself – went running from Poppy's office and out into the main part of the Hospital. Hermione was thrashing around on the floor, fallen off her cot; the blanket tangled all around her as she kicked and screamed and thrashed out.

I skidded to the ground beside her, pulling her up into my arms. There were tears soaking her cheeks and hair, and she was trembling violently. She seemed to be calming down as I ran my hand over her forehead. "No!" she screamed suddenly, back to flailing around like a fish out of water; desperate to breathe. "I told you I don't know!" she screamed, trying to crawl her way out of my arms. "Draco please don't do this! Don't do this I don't know anything!" she cried desperately.

"Hermione," I said, shaking her softly and rubbing her hair. "Miss Granger," I said again, forcing myself to remember we had an audience. "Miss Granger, open your eyes, open your–" she opened her eyes, and when she did my breath caught in my throat. Her beautiful almond eyes which I loved so much, which I had stared into adoringly so many times in the past couple days; those eyes which I had memorized from color to shape to shade to brightness… had changed. While her right eye was still the same, still warm and brown and almond and amber… the other was now a cold, piercing gray: not a speck of brown to be seen.

* * *

_Draco let out a deep grunt, followed by a long sigh, before pulling himself out of her and jumping up to his feet. Laughing, he pulled back on his boxers and jeans, looking down at her with a happy smile. "I really needed that release," he told her, straightening up his shirt, and then hair._

_Hermione lay on the floor, tears flowing like rivers from her eyes, her jaw trembling. Her cheeks burned from all of the backhands and slaps Draco had given her – her nipples raw and bleeding, her breasts bruised and cut. And her innocence… her virginity, it was now with Draco – the pig standing above her, smiling as if nothing wrong had been done. Looking down at her as if they had made love, instead of Draco forcing himself on top of her, and beat her while he raped her._

"_Is the little brat ready to be honest yet?" came the voice of his father, Lucius Malfoy, as he strode into the room, Bellatrix quick at his heel. Without waiting for anyone's answer, he knelt down beside her. He stroked his hand over her hair, and she turned her head away from him, pulling from his touch. "You are a pretty thing, Draco never mentioned that," he said casually. "Too bad you're a Mudblood, and a liar, at that."_

"_Tell us where you got it Mudblood," Bellatrix told her. Hermione remained silent, keeping her lips closed. Lucius had had enough of her impertinence; he handed off his wand to Bellatrix, and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it to his sister-in-law, who watched in fascination as he swung back his booted foot, and slammed it with all its force into Hermione's side. She screamed out in pain: the feeling of at least three ribs cracking burning inside her. _

"_She asked you a _question!_" he yelled, kicking her again and again and again. She screamed as he ripped her up by her hair, dragging her across the room. "Tell us where you got the sword!" he demanded, shoving her down onto the rug and planting his foot firmly into her stomach. She coughed up blood, clutching at her stomach as he readied himself to kick her again. She screamed as he did. "Are you going to answer us yet, Mudblood?" he asked her. She was cold and shaking, terrified for her life. She didn't know anything, and they refused to believe her. _

_She looked up at him, blood splattered all around her lips. "I don't know anything," she told him again. He was quick, dropping down beside her and slamming his fist across her cheek. A deep purple bruise quickly formed across her skin, brighter and puffier than all the rest adorning her face. _

_She was still practically naked from when Draco had raped her. She looked on and watched as Lucius began opening his own pants, and she screamed out in horror, trying to crawl away from him. He grabbed her ankle, pulling her to him. He threw himself on top of her, grabbing her hair tightly and pulling it back. "When we ask you a question we _demand_ an answer," he told her before shoving her head to the ground. She wriggled around, trying to free herself from him. "Bella," he demanded his sister-in-law. "Hold her down," she did as commanded, pinning Hermione down at the shoulders and looking down at her, laughing hysterically._

_He shoved himself inside of her._

* * *

I had been able to lift Hermione back up to her cot, and I felt my heart crash to my feet as I watched on as Poppy and the Healer strapped her down at her ankles and wrists. Her own safety, they had called it. And in my heart I knew they were right, but to see her in so much pain, to stand by and be able to do nothing for the woman I loved… to not know in the first place what was causing her so much pain as she screamed out and cried and thrashed around and trembled and shook. I wanted to jump inside of her mind, to her memories, and fight them off for her. I wanted to protect her from a past that was quickly coming back to her.

"What is happening?" Poppy asked, her own eyes filled with tears as she watched my Hermione suffering before us all; a tissue clutched in her hand and held at her throat.

"She is reliving whatever memories were taken from her: reliving them as if they are happening right now, at this very moment," the Healer explained. "All we can do is wait."

"There must be something more we can do than just stand here watching her," I said. "I know, there is a way we can extract the memories, that way, she won't have to–"

"You can not extract memories if you have no memories to extract," the Healer cut me off. "She is reliving them now, that would be like stopping something from happening as it is happening, only, in this case it has happened already, but the past has become the present, and all of her memories haven't even come back yet. If they had, she wouldn't be screaming like this still.

"The migraines she had before were excruciating because the wall that was blocking them was crumbling, now that the wall is gone and the memories are flooding her… it would be like the migraines before were painless, compared to what she is going through now. The mind is only meant to be able to absorb so much at once. But now she is absorbing all her memories from her entire captivity and torture, all at once. I wouldn't be surprised if she blacked out from the pain, soon," he concluded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"All of this has to do with her mind; her memories," I said, talking, trying to force myself to focus on anything but the sound of her screams. It took every muscle in my body and every ounce of mental toughness to not rip the restraints from her hands and feet and pull her into my arms, to rock her in my arms, to hug her and tell her I love her and kiss her and promise her it would be over soon, that I will always be there for her. "So how does that affect her physical appearance?"

"What do you mean?" the Healer asked, looking over at me confusedly.

"When we first heard her screaming and we all ran out here," I began. "When I pulled her up into my arms, she opened her eyes for a brief moment and looked up, not at me or anything in particular, but when she did here eyes… Miss Granger has almond brown eyes," I told him. "But when she opened them, one of them was completely gray."

"Heterochromia Iridum," the Healer said, placing his chin into his hand and looking down at Hermione. "An eye condition where you have two different colored eyes. Normally a person is born with it, or they develop it at a very young age, usually before age five," he explained, walking over to her. "Or in extremely rare cases," he went on, pulling open each of her lids, one at a time. My fists clenched at my sides as I watched him touching my Hermione. "It can happen to people who have gone through unspeakable traumas," he sighed, crossing his arms back over his chest and stepping away from her. "Well, now that explains why she seems so traumatized."

I looked down at her: my heart breaking. I wanted to go to her, to place my lips against hers and wake her up with true love's kiss… but I knew it didn't work like that. I just wanted her to wake up, to stop suffering… I wanted to hold her in my arms and make her feel safe again.

Suddenly, like it had never been there to begin with, the screaming stopped. Her body stopped thrashing, and she was completely still, save for her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her eyes slowly began to flutter open; like a butterfly's first flight after awakening from her cocoon. And there they were: her eyes – one almond, one gray. She gingerly pulled herself to sit, looking around the room slowly, meeting each of our eyes, and falling and resting on mine last, and for the longest. She took in a deep breath through her nose, looked down at her lap, and began sobbing.

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6: Trust

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Six: Trust

**Hermione's POV**

The Healer had released me of my binds; apparently I had been violent while the walls to my compulsion came crashing down: screaming, kicking, crying, hitting, trembling, hyperventilating… I didn't remember any of it. All I remembered were the memories… so long forgotten, so long taken from me; the torture, the questioning of something I knew nothing about, the beatings… the rapes, and in the end, being forced to drink a vile concoction and being told to forget all of it, and forgetting. Until now.

When I came to, I was being observed by Madam Pomfrey, a Healer who refused to tell us his name, and my darling Severus. I had broken down shortly after that, knowing everything I had gone through – being raped multiple times by Draco and his father; his sister-in-law, Draco's aunt; the woman who killed so many people – who tortured Neville's parent's so many years ago – standing by and watching, laughing… holding me down. Beating me and torturing me; Draco carving the word 'MUDBLOOD' into the inside of my forearm. Being nearly beaten to death; being forced to forget about it all. And waking up, being handed a mirror once I was calm enough, and looking at myself, seeing one of my eyes had gone completely silver-gray. The color of Draco's eyes, and his fathers' before him. I would hate myself forever, always looking in the mirror and remembering; seeing the eye of my rapists constantly looking back at me, taunting me.

Madam Pomfrey had refused to leave as this was 'her wing', and the Healer refusing just as strongly, because I was the reason he had been called on. Severus wouldn't leave my side; taking a seat and pulling it as closely to my side as possible and taking my hand into his own when the other two weren't looking, being forced to drop it when they looked back.

None of them knew that I had remembered; what I had been through. What I wanted more than anything, what I _needed _more than they would ever understand, was to fall into Severus's arms and have him hold me. To have him kiss my hair and tell me that he was there; that it would be all right… Because when I was with him, nothing else seemed to matter. He made everything better: he made all the nightmares and pain and fear go away, even if I hadn't remembered them before: I looked it to his eyes and all there was was us. Since the moment from first kissing him in the Great Hall only a few short days ago, he had become my everything.

"I know it is hard," the Healer began, placing his hands on the back of a chair and leaning into it, looking over at me. "But even though all of your compelled memories are back now, the migraines will continue. They are placed most recently in your mind, and until they are put in place to where they are supposed to be, the pain will proceed.

"I can put them back where they belong; further from your memory, but in order to do so I need to know what I am looking for, so I know what memories to grasp and relocate in your mind. Exactly, you can not spare any details from me – in order for you to allow me to help you, you need to trust me with them."

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "And how am I supposed to do that," I wondered, meeting my eyes with his. "When you won't even tell me your name?"

He took a long moment to contemplate what I had asked, staring at me. "Even though we live in a wizarding world, Miss Granger, there are still some – like myself - who are better than others. The abilities I have outshine many, and if my name were to get into the wrong hands… It wouldn't be very good."

"You have to earn trust," I told him. "You have no idea what my memories are, Healer, and I refuse to tell them to a person who won't even tell me his own name. You're a Healer, and obviously a very good one. I am nobody; a school girl," I felt Severus look over at me as I spoke down to myself. "Who am I going to tell?"

"Not you," he mused. "But perhaps your Professor here who you seem to share a great bond with," he suggested. "Or the nurse here, who claims to have more abilities than is the truth," Madam Pomfrey let out an astonished gasp. "I will tell you, Miss Granger, and I will trust you to tell nobody once I tell you, and I will only tell you if these two leave," he indicated towards Severus and Madam Pomfrey. "They may come back afterwards. But if I tell you my name, I demand the same amount of trust back; for you to tell me your memories so you can let me help you."

* * *

I looked over at the Healer; Severus and Madam Pomfrey now gone, leaving us alone. I couldn't care less about Madam Pomfrey; it was Severus who I was reluctant to ask to leave… But in the end I knew it was for the best. And so, I stood with my arms folded over my chest, holding a blanket around my shoulders. The Healer looked back at me in our war of silence.

"So," I said finally. "What is it?"

With his hands on his hips, he lifted his chin. "Alaric Aspin."

"Alaric Aspin?" I asked him doubtfully. "That's rather simple for a Healer who acts so superior."

"Is the truth not the same for a rose?" he asked back. "Really, a rose is just another flower, and yet people make such a big deal when you mention the word 'rose' over 'flower'," he explained. "Besides, we do not choose our names," he went on. "Or our talents or abilities. For instance, I was like you: born a muggle, I had no knowledge of the wizarding world or real magic until I got my own letter to attend a wizarding school. Of course, before that, there were signs."

I looked over at him curiously. "How did you know I was a muggle born?"

He smiled. "Being a Healer, knowing magic… it is not my only gift. I am also psychic, as the muggles call it. Clairvoyant, if you will. I am an empath – I can both see and feel people," he explained. "For instance, I know you and your Professor, the one who was so _subtly _protective over you, that Severus Snape, are in love with each other," he told me bluntly, and I felt my cheeks fill with heat. "And that it is much more than that. That it isn't just some fling or infatuation; that the two of you were born to be with each other. What you have is real, and there is no force in this world or any other that is strong enough to break it or come between you two," he pulled his eyes away from mine and chuckled. "Don't look so nervous; I won't tell anyone. _Your secret is safe with me_.

"Now," he went on, clasping his hands together. "Do you trust me yet, or should we talk about your own childhood?" I looked down, swallowing.

"Do we," I began timidly. "Do we need to do it in here?" I asked. "Or can we do it somewhere else; somewhere where I feel more comfortable, and where we don't have to worry about anybody interrupting or walking in on?"

"Your comfort is the most important thing," he told me. "And if you'd like, we only have to have Severus with us. He could even be holding you; this isn't a whatever-I-do-to-you-effect-those-touching-you kind of thing. In fact, I think it actually might be better if he were holding you… The way you two look at each other, I would bet a lot of money – _and win, I may add_ – that the only place you will feel safe for quite a while is with him. And," he added. "We really don't want this to be interrupted."

As we made our way into the hall, Madam Pomfrey was standing with her back against the stone wall, her hand clutched at her throat, and Severus was pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips. He looked so worried he could puke. Instinct told me to run into his arms and burry my face within his chest, but I forced myself to be grounded.

Severus and I had only been together a few days, but it's like our souls had been together for a million years. And from what Alaric had told me, for all I knew, they had been. When he looked at me, I could read his eyes. They said, "Darling, are you all right?" I looked back at him, telling him, "yes," with my own, and, "it hurts to not be with you." He looked back at me, relieved, and then said the same thing back.

"Well?" asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously, after our sudden and unexplained silence from coming into the hallway. "May we begin now?" she was looking at Alaric as she asked the question, her eyes frantic.

"Actually," he told her, indicating towards me. "I think Miss Granger here can answer you that," they both looked at me; her and Severus. Her, with utter unutterable confusion, and his with a burning desire to pull me into his arms; a desire so strongly I could feel it; one I felt myself. I knew Alaric could feel it between us, too. I had been so lost looking into Severus's eyes; I entirely forgot what was going on at the moment.

Alaric cleared his throat.

"Actually," I said suddenly, forcing my eyes away from Severus and to her. She looked at me impatiently, placing her hands on her hips. "I was going to ask if we could do it in Professor Snape's private room," I told her, looking briefly over at him as he answered with a quick "of course."

"That way we don't have to worry about anybody interrupting us, and" I added. "You can stay here, Madam Pomfrey, in case any other student needs you in the Hospital."

She was furious, unable to say any clear response as she stomped off, muttering something about youth and no appreciation, and about why Professor Snape was so important all of the sudden. Shaking her head, she slammed the Hospital door behind her, and even through the thick oat, we could still hear her stomping off and grumbling to herself.

"It is quite late now," Alaric said, looking between the two of us. "All of the staff and students will have gone to bed by now. It is quite safe," as he finished his words, it was like Severus and I broke from under a frozen trance. We sprung on our toes and rushed at each other, running into each others arms. He hugged me tightly, kissing the top of my head and forehead over and over and over again. I squeezed onto him tightly, holding onto him as if I hadn't seen him in years. I reached up to my tiptoes and our lips met, kissing passionately.

"I was so worried about you," he breathed, hugging me closer still. "You had me in a panic; I never thought you were going to wake from that."

"Severus, I–" but I couldn't finish what I was about to say.

"This is all very touching," Alaric said, not unkindly, and his tone truly was genuine. "But we really should be going."

* * *

"How did you know?" I asked Severus as we walked down the hall, hand-in-hand, with Alaric close behind us, as we walked on our way to his classroom, and essentially, his private room. He looked down at me curiously. "About Alaric; his name; how he would know about us, and not tell anyone?"

He smiled, bringing my hand up to his lips to kiss it. "Alaric and I are old friends," he explained. "I was born half muggle, and into the muggle world. We were friends. I knew as soon as he saw the both of us together that he would see the love we have for one another. It was Poppy," he said indignantly, "that stopped me from coming to you sooner. It was actually me who called him out here."

"Really?" I asked him, not entirely surprised. But still, I was a little.

"Of course," he looked down at me affectionately. "Only the best for my Darling," and he kissed my hand again as I smiled up at him.

We rounded the last corner, and made our way halfway down the hall, to his classroom. He opened the door. "Ladies first," he smiled, but before I had a chance to walked past him, Alaric passed me, pulling at his robe and thanking him. I shook my head, following him into the classroom, and Severus followed me, closing the door behind us.

"I'll lead the way, thank you," Alaric said. "_Ladies first_," he scoffed, shaking his head. "He really is in love with you."

I smiled, biting my bottom lip as I followed him, Severus in tow, his hand clutched protectively around mine. We walked up the stairs leading to his private room, one after the other, and once we were all inside Severus turned to lock the door by simply waving his wand before the handle and deadbolt. The candles were already lit, as always, dimly lighting his place to a romantic setting.

"I am assuming you'll want to do this on the bed," Alaric sighed as we walked towards it. "Severus, you can sit with your back against the headboard, and Hermione with her back against you," we did as he suggested, though without speaking, it _was_ our plan anyway. It was what we always did when we came up here just to cuddle and talk; his blanket pulled up over my lap; his arms around me.

But I knew – we all knew – though Severus would be comfortable, and I would be safe, that this was no time for romance. This was the time to fix my broken and scared brain; my traumatizing, hidden until just recently, past. My smile was gone as I crawled onto the bed towards Severus, thinking about what I was about to do, what I was about to tell them.

He pulled me into his arms, holding me securely and pulling his blanket up around me. I snuggled into him, not yet ready to meet Alaric's eyes, for I knew what it meant had to be done. Alaric pulled over one of Severus's cushioned chairs, placing it at the end of the bed to face us. He sat forward with his elbows balanced on his knees, and his hands clasped together, looking over at me without a hint of humor.

"All right Hermione," he told me softly, "whenever you are ready."

I nodded, swallowing, lacing my fingers through Severus's. He leaned down to kiss my left temple. "I love you," he said softly. "I am here, Hermione, I am not going anywhere. If it gets to hard, you can take a break, and I will just hold you until you are ready to go on," I nodded my head, already knowing this.

"I love you," I told him before taking a large breath. I looked over at Alaric, forcing my eyes to meet his, and began.

By the time I was finished, having told them both everything in complete detail, sparing nothing, I was shaking with tears running down my cheeks, and Severus's arms around me had become a vice-like grip. I sniffed my nose, pulling Severus's arms tighter around me still. "And so," I told them. "That's what happened. That's everything I remembered."

"That would explain why your eye changed color," Alaric said softly, looking over at me with complete and utter sorrow. I raised my eyebrows in response, not having words. "I am going to move your memories back to where they belong now, Hermione," I nodded as he stood from his seat. "When I am finished, they will still be there, and of course you will always remember them, but they will be moved back into their proper place, so they won't be the front of your focus anymore.

"I want you to focus on Severus," he instructed as he sat on the bed beside me, near my feet. "I want you to focus on his arms around you, the feel of his breath at your neck; the sound of his voice. I want you to focus on how much you love him, on how happy he makes you, on your favorite memories with him," he told me. "That way, when I am done moving your memories, the things you think about most will be him, and, hopefully, with that, and with what I told you earlier about you two, it will be easier to abandon your torture, your rapes, to the back of your mind," on the word _rapes_, Severus's arms tightened around me, and my fingers squeezed tightly around his.

"Are you ready?" he asked me. And I looked over at him, nodding. "Alright, I am going to place my fingertips along your temples, and enter into your mind. Do I have permission to do that?" I nodded again. "When I do, you will feel a slight pressure; like a sinus or stress headache, but nothing compared to the migraines you were having before. Once I am done, it will take a few days for the migraines to completely vanish, but they won't be nearly as bad, and then, before you know it they will be gone," he told me. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I told him, hugging Severus's arms tighter around me.

"Close your eyes," he told me. "And just focus on the love of your life."

As he placed his fingertips against my temples, a surge of pressure surrounded my head, and I sucked in a breath of air. It _was_ painful, but nothing like before.

"I know," Alaric said softly as Severus brought his lips down to the top of my head, kissing me tenderly. "I know, it will be over soon, I promise. I promise." I forced myself to believe him, and focused on Severus. On the color of his eyes, the softness of his lips, the warmth of his arms around me; the safety and comfort he filled me with. How it felt the first time we made love, how wonderful he made me feel everyday, how everything else disappeared when he looked into my eyes. How much _he _loved _me_. How he made me feel like his queen, his absolute world.

I opened my eyes, and Alaric was looking at me, a gentle, satisfied smile on his face with his hands now in his lap. "You're done," he told me, pulling himself away from the bed to stand.

"That's it?" I asked him. "I mean I don't doubt you, but it was just so quick," I could hear Severus's breathing change as he smiled.

"I told you," he said as I craned my neck back to look at him. "Only the best for you, Hermione," I heard a faint popping noise, like someone had Disapparated, and when I turned back around, Alaric was nowhere to be seen.

"How can he do that?" I asked. "We're still inside Hogwarts, nobody can Apparate or Disapparate here," when I looked back at Severus, he was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"Such a bloody show-off," he was mumbling. "Alaric has 'loop-holes' around everything, as he likes to say. Many secrets he has, and the only one he has ever shared with me, and now you, is his bloody name. But, I suppose it is good he wants to keep that a secret, I mean even just being able to do that, Disapparate, in a place where it is not just impossible but forbidden… if the wrong witch or wizard heard about him, it could be very bad for him."

I let out a thoughtful sigh, leaning back into his chest, and he hugged me tightly. "And, Hermione," he added softly, solemnly. "If you ever need to talk about what happened to you… What was done to you, you know that I am always here, my love, always."

"I know," I nodded, cuddling further against him. "But everything I told you that happened, that and one of my eyes now being gray, there isn't much else, Severus."

"I know," he said softly. "But there is more than that, Hermione," he stroked my head. "Not just _what_ happened, but how it will affect you. If you will look at men differently, if you will–"

"Severus, I love you," I told him. "And I know when you're not telling me something. So, please… just say it." He pulled himself away from my, swinging his legs around me so he could face me. He took one of my hands into his and stroked the side of my face with his other.

"Hermione," he said slowly, his eyes glistening. "I…" he looked down, dropping his hand from my face. "I was there," he told me, still not meeting my gaze. "At Malfoy Manor, when you were. I was in the study, on the upper level, with Narcissa, Draco's mother… We could both hear you screaming, and crying, the sounds of you being beaten… We heard you Hermione, but we had no idea that you were being raped.

"Hermione," he looked over at me, and now my own eyes were glistening. "I was a spy for Dumbledore; I was there to get information for the Order. I may not have loved you then, but I did care for you very deeply as a student, even if I had a very poor way of showing it.

"The Malfoy's, none of them really trusted me fully," he went on, squeezing my hand. "I pulled myself up from the couch as your cries went on and on and on and wouldn't stop – I thought they were going to kill you. I made my way over to the study door, and tried the handle, but it was locked. I tried all the spells and charms and incantations I knew," he breathed. "Narcissa asked me if I were going somewhere. I folded my arms behind myself, ignored her, and walked over to the window, looking out onto the moon. And she knew what I was trying to do – she knew if I could get those doors open I would stop them – that I would save you, and she just laughed.

"As I stood there, looking up at the full moon – its freedom to come and go as it pleased, and all the stars around it, I listened to you being tortured, Hermione, and I just wept for you.

"I am so sorry, Hermione, that I couldn't save you – that I couldn't stop them. But if I could have… They would all be dead now, for doing what they did to you." I didn't say anything; tears were running silently down my cheeks as he told me what he was hiding; how he was there. I wanted to be mad at him, but, what did I have to be mad about? He was doing his job, and he did try, but he couldn't get to me. Even before he loved me, he would have killed people for hurting me.

I looked up at him, and he wasn't crying, but his eyes were filled with still tears. Biting my bottom lip, I thrust myself at him, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me in response, hugging me as closely as he could. "Oh, Hermione," he whispered softly, painfully. "Hermione, I am so, so sorry. Hermione, my sweet darling… can you ever forgive me? Please say you can, Hermione; I could not possibly live otherwise, not with you hating me."

That thing I was talking about earlier with Alaric, about trust… I trusted Severus, I trusted him with more than my life: but with my heart and soul, my body and mind.

I pulled my face away from his shoulder, wiping away the tears from my face, though they still fell lightly, and looking up at him. "Severus," I told him, my voices hoarser that I would have liked.

"Yes, Hermione?" he breathed. He looked down at me, nervous, impatient. I slowly ran my hands over his shoulders, and to the back of his head, into his hairline.

_Of course I forgive you._

He smiled happily, and we leaned forward, our lips meeting to a passionate kiss as I fell back into his lap, and we toppled over to our sides, completely lost in each other.

**To be continued…**


	7. Chapter 7: Deeper than Fear

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Copyright: **The song lyrics belong to 'Sleeping at Last', for their song 'Turning Page'.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Seven: Deeper than Fear

**Severus's POV**

The sun was just beginning to rise as I slipped out of bed, careful not to move too quickly as to wake Hermione. She was naked except for the silk sheet that covered her; her breasts and arms, one side of her bottom and half a leg were all I could see. Her head was turned to face me with her hair sprawled out along the pillow to make her have the appearance of a sleeping angel, with a delicate smile painted across her soft, full lips.

We hadn't made love last night; I didn't even ask or make any advances towards the subject, not after what she had gone through, not after remembering all of that. She did, however, insist that we sleep naked. She told me that she needed to feel my skin against hers, and feel my hands as they rubbed her body. She needed to feel safe, and loved, and protected, the only time she ever felt any of that, was with me; when I was holding her, or anywhere near her. She had asked me if I thought she was ugly now, with one of her eyes gray, like the Malfoy's. She was nearly in tears as she asked it, and I pulled her body into mine and rubbed her back and head, kissing her forehead. "Hermione," I had told her gently, "nothing could ever make you ugly, my sweet, sweet darling. You are the most beautiful woman in any world, and nothing will ever change that. And," I had added as she hugged me tighter. "As odd as it may seem, I actually quite like your eyes being different colors. It gives others girls just one more reason to be jealous of how much more beautiful of them you are."

She smiled up at me, running her fingers into my hair. "But you loved my eyes," she went on. "Severus, you'd always say how beautiful they were: how brown and amber and almond they were. How warm they were."

I leaned my lips down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Darling," I told her softly, taking her face between my palms. "You are the most beautiful woman to have ever been born," I repeated myself. "But, as the one and only love of my life, the only woman I have ever loved or will love, as my soul mate… The love I have for you is complete; it isn't just because of your breathtaking body, my love, but on what is in the inside. When I look in your eyes, no matter what color they are, I see your soul. And I am absolutely, and completely, unstoppably and irrevocably in love with you," a smile was gracing her face, little tears falling from her eyes and she was breathing unsteadily through her nose.

"Severus, I…" she began softly. "Severus, I just love you so much," she told me, kissing me on the lips. "I never thought anybody could love me as you do; I never thought anybody could love me as much as I love them… Severus, oh, God, Severus, I love you!" she told me, pulling me into her arms and laughing so hard she was crying.

"Darling." I whispered, hugging her closely. "Darling, please… please don't cry."

"No," she shook her head as we pulled apart. "No, Severus, it is a good cry. You love me so much, you make me so happy… you make me cry by loving me," she explained, smiling happily. "You make me so happy I can't help but to cry."

I smiled back at her, running my hand over her head. She leaned into my touch, closing her eyes. "So beautiful," I said softly, seriously. She opened her eyes, still smiling that brighter-than-the-sun smile. "Darling, I have something for you. A gift," I took her hand into mine, and lead her back over to the bed. I pulled the small box from my pocket as we sat down beside each other, and handed it to her. "It was my grandmother's," I told her. "She told me to give it to the woman who I couldn't live without – to the woman that I would give my mind, body, heart and soul to," she let out a gasp and slapped her hand over her lips as she looked down on it.

"Severus," she breathed, looking between me and the ring. "Severus, it is breathtaking. It's too beautiful…" I pulled the box from her hand, and took the ring into my hand. I grabbed her left hand, and slid it onto her index finger. She took her eyes away from the ring, and looked over at me, her face still astonished. "I love it, Severus," she told me and she slowly leaned her head into mine, kissing me deeply. "I will always wear it. Thank you, honey, thank you so, so very much. It means so much to me," she placed her right hand under her left, bringing her hand up closer to her face to examine the ring closer. I watched her in complete adoration and love.

"I know your favorite metal is silver, but this is white gold; a filigree of flowers and swirls for the band," I told her. "The black is onyx, partly engraved for beauty. And in the white gold diamond shaped setting in the middle it is an emerald. It's from the early 1920's, but my grandmother barely ever wore it, so it is basically new."

"Severus," she was breathless, still staring deeply at the ring.

"It will protect you," I told her. "I put a very strong charm on it, so if anyone means you harm they can not come within three feet of you. Even if you just feel scared, or threatened. And," I added, pulling out my own white gold, onyx and emerald – but not by any means a match to hers – ring. "I have it linked to mine, so if you are ever in any danger, any at all, my ring will begin to grow very hot, and I will know to go to you."

She looked over at me, slowly dropping her ringed hand to her lap, a new batch of tears on her eyes. "Severus," she said, standing up and taking a few steps to stand before me. She took my shoulders into her hands, and slid herself onto my lap, straddling me with one leg on either side. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her securely against me. She kissed me deeply, pushing her tongue into my mouth and exploring each part of the inside of my mouth. She moved her hands up and wrapped them around my head, tangling her fingers into my hair. "I love you Professor Snape," she told me, kissing me deeper still. "So bloody much."

"And I you, Miss Granger," we were both out of breath, panting, as we stared deeply into each others eyes. I smiled, knowing that this was the woman whom I would one day marry. I slid my hand back down to her waist, and hugged her strongly. I then drew my right hand away from her back, and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes.

"_I've waited a hundred years," _I started singing softly, replacing my arm back around her waist, and she smiled over at me. _"But I'd wait a million more, for you."_

I opened my mouth to go on, but she silenced me by placing her ringed finger over my lips. _"Nothing prepared me for, what that privilege of being yours would do."_

She pulled herself away from my lap, taking both my hands into hers, and led me to the middle of my bedroom, wrapping her arms around my neck as I wrapped mine back around her waist, and we sang together, swaying gently back and forth in a small circle, our eyes never leaving each others.

"_If I had only felt the warmth within your touch,  
If I had only seen how you smile when you blush,  
__Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough,  
__Well I would have known,  
__What I was living for all along,  
__What I've been living for,"_

Her smile was so happy, so content, so completely blissful, it took all I had to not break our song and kiss her then.

"_Your love is my turning page," _I went on, as she just watched me happily.  
_Where only the sweetest words remain,  
__Every kiss is a cursive line,  
__Every touch is a redefining phrase,"_

"_I surrender who I've been for who you are," _she went on, and it was my turn to watch her, smiling and completely lost in her. _"For nothing makes me stronger than, your fragile heart,  
"If I had only felt how it feels to be yours,  
"Well, I would have known,  
"What I've been living for all along,  
"What I've been living for,"  
_

"_Though we've tethered the story we must tell," _we went on together, pulling each other closer. _"When I saw you, well, I knew we'd tell it well," _both smiling, we leaned our foreheads together for the last final verses, closing our eyes and almost whispering them. _"With a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas,  
"Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees."_

We stood there; our swaying ended, our song complete, just standing in each others arms. "I love you," she told me softly, opening her eyes to find me standing there, already looking down at her. "Severus," she told me, running her tongue over her lips. "I am so completely in love with you."

I kissed my lips to her forehead. "And I you, darling," I told her softly. "I am so utterly and completely yours."

She smiled, her eyes droopy, light blue beneath them. She was exhausted from the day, and she was beginning to run out of energy, I could feel it as I held her in my arms, and hear it in the way she spoke. "Time for bed, my love," I said, placing my hand over her cheek and kissing her softly on the lips.

"I want to sleep here tonight," she told me quickly, weakly. "I don't want to be away from you, Severus."

I smiled, hugging her and kissing the top of her head. "I wouldn't dream of letting you leave me tonight," I told her, walking her over to my bed.

I was pulling back the covers and sheet, and arranging the pillows, when she spoke. "Wait," she told me. "Severus, I want to sleep with my clothes off… I need to feel your skin against mine; I need your body against mine, to feel your arms around me, to hold me and keep me safe. Please?" she asked me.

"Of course," I nodded. "Anything for my love."

She smiled, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "Will you help me to undress?" she was so tired, she could barley keep her eyes open.

I walked over to her, dropping to my knees before her. I unlaced her shoes, pulling them gently off her feet, and setting them besides each other at the foot of my bed. I then pulled off her stockings and rolled them like buns, setting one in each shoe. "Lean back, darling," I told her, and knelt onto the bed, unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper of her skirt. I slid it off her legs, folding it and laying it atop her shoes and stockings. I began unbuttoning her white button-up, and easily lifted her against me to pull it off. I unlatched her black and white vertical striped bra, and matching panties and set them neatly onto the pile of her other clothes at the end of the bed.

Now completely naked, I took a moment to just appreciate the love of my life in her natural form; her ivory skin, her perfect breasts and erect nipples, her narrow waist and jutting hips. Her beautiful face and wavy brown hair; little nose and flawless, full lips. "Your turn," she mumbled, nearly asleep. I chuckled, and began undressing myself.

Once the two of us were completely naked, I pulled her into my arms and carried her bridal style into the bed, setting her to the left side of me and wrapping her up into my arms. I turned my head back and blew out the last lit candle, casting us into darkness. I gave her one last kiss in the crook of her neck, and whispered, "Goodnight, my darling, sweet dreams and sleep well. I love you," but she was already asleep.

* * *

After pulling on my usual clothes for the day, I turned back around to face my bed, and buttoned up the last three buttons below my neck. I ran my hands over my chest and stomach, and then legs and arms, to make sure all creases and crinkles were out of the material.

The sun was just beginning to make its peak over the horizon, so the staff and students would soon be making their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. We still had a good hour or so before first class started, and, Hermione having her first hour be Potions made it almost too easy for her to spend her nights with me.

A smile on my face, I walked over to her and sat beside her on the bed, shaking her gently. "Hermione darling," I cooed gently, leaning my lips to her hear and whispering softly. "My love, it is time to wake up, darling. You need to eat your breakfast before coming to class." She moaned softly, rolling onto her back and stretching her arms out towards the ceiling.

"Good morning," she yawned, smiling at me with her beautiful brown and gray eyes. "How long have you been awake?" she wondered. She was smiling, and looked happy… but her eyes, I could see it in them. There was something she wasn't telling me, and the paleness of her complexion, she was definitely hiding something. She rolled onto her side and looked up at me - uncaring that her breasts were still on display for me – and rested her head against her fist, with her arm propped up on her elbow.

"Not long," I told her as I scooted my back to rest on the headboard. I ran my hand over her head, brushing away a loose strand that fell over her nose. "Darling, you remember last night, when you told me you could always tell when I wasn't being completely honest with you?" she gulped, and nodded her head. She pushed herself up with both hands and crawled into my lap; the sheet just covering her sex and part of her thigh. She looked down for a long moment before looking me in the eye.

"I had a nightmare," she told me softly. "And after yesterday… it felt so real, Severus…"

"I'm here, darling," I reassured her, rubbing her arms as she began to shake.

"They were here," she went on softly. "At the school… Draco, and his dad… They were looking for me, they wanted to… They were looking for me because they wanted to…" she couldn't say it, and I didn't force her to. I only held her tighter. "I looked for you; screamed for you, but I couldn't find you anywhere. The ring you gave me was gone, they had taken it, and were taunting me with it as the cornered me and…and…and…"

"Shh," I told her, pulling her closer still as she silently cried; her tears wetting my teaching robes. "Shh, darling, I have you. I am here, darling. I will always be here; always protect you.

"I have that ring spelled so only you can take it off if you _will_ it so. It can't even fall or slip off," I told her. "Here, I will show you. Give me your finger," she raised her finger to me, and I took the ring in my hand. I pulled with all my strength; pulled so hard I became lightheaded. I finally gave up, and when I looked at her, she was smiling. "So you see?" I asked, taking her face into my hand and kissing her. "It was only a dream, my love. Draco, his father… All the Malfoy's disappeared after Voldemort was defeated. No one has seen or heard from them since, you are safe, Hermione." She smiled, leaned her face into mine, and kissed me.

I watched her with a smile on my face as she straightened her tie, as she made her way over to my bedroom door, where she would then pass through my office, into my classroom and to the Great Hall to have breakfast with her friends before coming back for first hour Potions.

She smiled. "I love you Severus," she told me while pulling open my bedroom door to leave.

"I love you, darling," I smiled back as she pulled the door closed behind her. The moment the door was closed, and I knew she was gone; my smile was gone. I began pacing back and forth in front of my window with my hands on my hips. That nightmare she told me about, it had to be only a nightmare - it just _had _to be. What Alaric had told me about his gifts sometimes jumping into other's in different forms sometimes when he helped them, it wasn't true, not now, and not with my Hermione. That would mean that the Malfoy's _were _here, and that they _would _be looking for her. But the part about her ring being pulled off, there was no way that part of the vision – if that is in fact what it was – could be true. No one, absolutely no one could take it off besides her. No spell, no form of compulsion or anything else magical or otherwise could change that. It was her _will _and her will alone that allowed it to be removed, and there was no form of magic or mind tricks that could effect your true will, only what you could be told to do, not how to act on willpower. Only one's self could do that.

I absently took my linked-ring between my thumb and forefinger and began twirling it, closing my eyes and thinking of the days' lesson plan: Ways to defeat and overcome compulsion, or any other sort of mind-control, manipulation or invasion. I walked across my room, pulling open my bedroom door and locking it behind me as I entered into my office.

I crossed over into my office and pulled out my chair and sat down behind my desk, picking up my favorite quill and dipping it in black ink. I slid a piece of parchment in front of me and began writing down the notes for the lesson, listing everything I knew, and everything Alaric had taught me.

* * *

I had written _'WAYS TO DEFEAT AND OVERCOME COMPULSION, MIND-CONTROL, MANIPULATION OR INVASION' _boldly across the top of the black board as the first hour students began to filter in. I knew it was a topic for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, but I had been able to convince Professor Slughorn at the last minute to trade classes for a few days, just enough time to be able to thoroughly cover and complete the subject, and he was all-too eager to say yes. He said he would even try talking Headmaster McGonagall for us to trade classes indefinitely. I thanked him, but doubted seriously her agreeing to the proposal.

"Ways to defeat and overcome compulsion, mind-control, manipulation or invasion?" some of the students were quietly asking aloud. "But, Professor, isn't that a matter for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" I couldn't place his name, but I knew the face. Another one of the students come back to make up his seventh year.

"Indeed, it is," I nodded. "But Professor Slughorn and I have an agreement to trade classes for a few days, possibly weeks, until this matter can be completed," I explained as he took a seat at the end of one of the tables at the back of the room. "And if Headmaster McGonagall will allow it, it will be a permanent trade of classes," I finished as I watched Hermione walk into the room beside Ginny Weasley, and a few other girls whose name's escaped me. It took only a matter of seconds to realize she was as far away from any other boy – Harry and Ron included – as she could get. She took a seat nestled between a bunch of other girls, ignoring Potter and Weasley, and every other boy she had grown up at school with. It seemed to me, that I was the only male she felt at all comfortable with, it was subtle, but when any boy would brush against her she would flinch or jump.

She could feel me watching her, and looked up to meet my eyes. She looked completely and utterly terrified, uncomfortable and anxious to either run from the room, or run and hide in my arms. How badly I wanted to be able to excuse her from the room, to let her go into my private room and spend the day locked in there, safe in the comforts of my bed and distractions with any book she would like. Each time anybody bumped into her my ring buzzed with warmth.

"Miss Granger," I said sternly, thinking quickly and making my face severe and raising my voice. "Already we are three and a half minutes into first hour, and still you have not turned in your completed assignment I gave you in detention two nights ago. Must I ask one more time where it is?" the look on her face, she would have kissed me if we were alone.

"No, Sir," she told me timidly. "I haven't finished it yet." All eyes were on her now, and with the turn of their heads the buzz about her eyes, and how they were suddenly two drastically different colors. That, and how I could be so cold: she had only just gotten out of the hospital wing from her fainting spell the other day, and after all those migraines - could I go a bit easy on the girl?

"My office!" I boomed loudly, pointing with my index finger towards the door. "Now Miss Granger! Gather all of your things; you have just tripled your assignment! Potter! Weasley!" I added, looking over at them as Hermione gathered up her belongings, shaking. "With the combination of the two of you you share the same schedule as Miss Granger, do you not?" They nodded. "Inform her teachers as the day goes on for the rest of the day she has been otherwise occupied with unfinished business with Professor Snape. Gather her assignments for her and drop them off in my office at the end of today's' classes."

"Yes Sir," they nodded in unison. Hermione rushed past me, her books and pieces of parchments shoved in her bag or carried against her chest.

"The rest of you," I said just as severely. "Read the board and begin! No wands, no talking, anybody who does gets detention and ten points taken from their House!"

I scanned the room, meeting each students eye to be sure they all knew how serious I was, before turning on my heel and bounding up the steps and into my office. I shut the door forcibly behind me for show, and Hermione was standing with her bag and belongings dropped sloppily at her feet; papers strewn everywhere and books half opened, half closed. Her shoulders bobbed up and down with her silent sobs; her head hung in the air over my desk.

I quickly rushed over to her and placed my hands onto her shoulders. She spun around quickly, throwing her arms around me and burying her face in my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. "I can't do this," she sobbed heavily, squeezing me as tightly as her skinny arms would allow her. "Severus," she cried. "I-I thought I could, I thought I would be fine," she mumbled. "But I spent the day and night with you; I was with you, I did-didn't have a chance to see how I would r-react around other boys; other m-men," she was crying so hard, I could barley understand her. "Every-every time I hear a mans voice, or hear them whisper, I remember what Draco and his d-dad did, and I think it's them," she squealed; my heart breaking with each sound of her own breaking heart. "I see it so clearly in my m-mind and feel their hands t-t-touching me and f-feel them rape-raping me a-all ov-over ag-again!" she sobbed; her knees giving out, and I had to hold her against me to keep her from crashing to the stone floor. "I can't do this Severus!" she told me. "I can't be away from you! I can't feel safe with out you!" she finished, sobbing so hard her voice had turned hoarse and deep. "The only time I feel safe any more is w-with you, Severus!" she coughed. "I d-don't even feel s-safe around H-Harry or R-Ron anymore!"

"Darling, Darling, breathe," I told her gently, hugging her tightly against me and rubbing her back soothingly. "I am here, my sweet darling, you are safe."

"D-don't leave!" she begged me. "Severus please don't leave me alone!" she sobbed, nearly hyperventilating as she clung to me for life.

"I won't," I told her. "Sweetheart, you have to breathe, breathe for me, darling, breathe, you're going to make yourself sick."

"Just promise me you won't leave," she sounded so desperate, like she really would faint if I left her.

"I promise," I promised her. "I promise, darling, I will not leave you. I won't go anywhere. Just breathe for me Hermione, please, do this one thing for me, my love. Breathe," I rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head. It broke my heart to see her in such fear, to hear her in so much pain and suffering.

She shook as she took in a deep breath, forcing herself to control her sobs. "That's it," I said softly, swaying us gently. "That's my good girl. Focus on the sound of my voice; the feel of my beating heart. I am here with you, always, Hermione. Always, always."

As I held her in my arms, swaying her back and forth, I was devastated; I knew what they did to her was beyond traumatic, but now, seeing her like this, it made me realize how deeply it affected her. How wounded she really was. She was beaten and abused and tortured and raped, multiple times, and in a very short span of time. While she was alone with me, she was able to focus on us; on me, on how deeply we loved each other. But, when she was alone, or surrounded by a bunch of other people, it was all she could focus on, all she could think about. I don't doubt Alaric's abilities, but what was done to Hermione went so much deeper than what either of us realized. She was terrified of men now, and any strange noise at all. It was going to take a hell of a lot more than and mind-fixing and memory charm to heal her. It was going to take time, love, patience, understanding and tenderness. All of which I could – and would – give her, for the rest of our life together. Because that was probably as long as it was going to take.

Almost asleep now, I lifted her into my arms: looping one arm beneath her knees, and the other behind her shoulders. Her head rested at the crook of my neck; my lovely darling had cried herself to sleep. I leaned my lips down and kissed her cheek tenderly. "I love you, darling," I said softly before whispering the incantation to unlock the door to my private room. I laid her down onto my bed, tucking her in after pulling off her socks and tie. I walked over and closed all of the curtains, casting the room to an almost complete darkness, save for the few candles that were lit sparingly around the room. I walked back over to my love, and kissed her forehead. "Dream of us, my love," I told her, leaning over her and smiling at her peaceful face. "And I promise you, if it is the last thing I do, we will get through this pain together, Hermione. I love you _so much_," I pressed my lips softly to hers, and gently ran my hand over her smooth, wavy locks. "My sleeping beauty."

I promised not to leave her, and I would keep that promise, but I had to send for an emergency substitute, and would do so, from my bedroom. I sat down at my table and quickly scrawled out a story about a family emergency, and needing a few days alone for time to think. I wrote McGonagall's name on the envelope, and walked over to my window. I pulled it back just enough to open the window, and luckily Stan, my part-time owl, was perched on the outside of the window, as if he had been waiting for me. "As quickly as possibly," I told him while placing the letter into his beak. The owl took off, and I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, impatiently awaiting her reply.

It came quickly, almost too quickly, like she, too, had been expecting me. In short, her reply was that she felt sorry for whatever my family was going through, and hoped I get well soon. She would herself fill in for my class until I was well enough to return to teaching, and that I had enough Holiday time saved up to be paid while doing so.

I replied with a gracious thank you, handed it off to Stan, and pulled closed my window, locking it tightly. I made sure all other windows were locked and sealed; curtains pulled closed tightly, and double and triple checked to make sure all my bedroom doors were locked. I then kicked my feet free of my shoes, dropped my pants, and tediously unbuttoned my teaching robe, leaving myself in my black boxers and black ribbed wifebeater undershirt. I pulled my white socks off and climbed into bed behind Hermione, pulling the covers over myself. She stirred in her sleep, moaning softly and turning herself around to face me. She hugged her arms around my waist and snuggled her face into my chest, looping her legs around mine. I kissed her forehead and pulled her close

She mumbled, "I love you," softly, and I said it back, and sang her softly back to sleep.

"_I've waited a hundred years,  
__But I'd wait a million more, for you…"_

**To be continued…**

* * *

**The Ring Severus Gave Hermione: **There is a link for it on my Profile.


	8. Chapter 8: No More Memories

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

**Author's Warning: **This chapter contains sexual adult content. Read at you own discretion.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Eight: No More Memories

**Hermione's POV**

I pulled myself up to sit, rubbing the sleep and dried tears from my eyes. I could see light peeking in beneath the drapes, indicating I had either only fallen asleep for a little while, or pushed a twenty-four-hour slumber. Either way, I still felt like I hadn't slept at all.

I looked around the room, and found Severus sitting at his desk, hovering over whatever it was he was working on, his glasses sliding off the edge of his nose, his lips moving silently to himself as he read over his work. It was a sight I could wake up to every morning, or, whatever time of day it happened to be when I woke up: to him. To wake up to him everyday: morning, afternoon, evening or night or any in between, it would be heaven. I pulled my knees up and slid my arms beneath them, smiling and resting my head over my knees and looking over at my man; stubble had began to grow over his cheeks and across his chin, above his upper lip. I had never seen him with any sort of face hair before, and I decided quickly that I liked it very, very much. I let out a sigh to inform him that I was awake.

"Hermione," he smiled, pushing his chair out behind him and dropping his quill onto his desk. "How long have you been awake?" he asked me as he came over to join me on his bed. He ran his hand over my head, leaning his lips in to kiss my forehead.

I lifted my head and smiled, leaning into his touch. "Not long," I told him. "I was just watching you work. What were you doing?" I looked up at him curiously, still hugging my legs.

"Ah," he sighed. "That. I was writing a letter to the Weasley's, actually… I know what you had to do to your parents during the war, so I knew the Weasley's had sort of had to take their place as your parents… I was just explaining to them that you have had a mental breakdown caused by exhaustion; overworking yourself, and would have to miss classes for about a week or so until you recover. I told them not to worry, that you are in my care as we have built a relationship over the course of this year, and that you are in good hands, and that if they feel the need they can write to you, and you are more than capable to write back and explain it yourself if they desired one. I also wrote one to the Headmaster, and one to Harry and Ron as well.

"Darling," he went on scooting himself closer to me. "I know you're afraid of them, of all male's because of what the Malfoy's did… And I know you must think that I am going to force you to get over that, and make you face your fears, but, Darling, I love you. I would _never_ force you to do something that I know makes you _truly _uncomfortable. Everyone knows you are not mentally capable of classes right now, so for as long as it takes, I will stay in here with you, and help you to overcome the trauma they have placed upon you, sweetheart. I will stay by your side for as long as it takes to make you feel safe on your own again," he pulled my hand into his and kissed my fingers. "We will beat this, Hermione," he promised. "We will make you okay again. It'll take time, and probably a lot of it, but you _will_ be okay again, and I _will _be there every second of the way."

"Severus," I said gently, running my fingers through the hair behind his ear. "Oh, Severus… How did I end up with the most amazing, patient, romantic, smart, sensitive, protective, loving and absolutely perfect man in the entire world?"

"Simple," he told me with a smile as he leaned in to kiss me. "I just waited long enough to find a woman who is just as wonderful as myself," I wrapped him into my arms, and he pulled me into his lap. "And as far as the romantic bit; I just love you, and the rest comes easily." I leaned my forehead against his and smiled. "You truly are a wonderful woman, Hermione," he told me softly. "The most amazing as they come, and I am the luckiest man to have you."

My smile widened as I ran my hand over his almost-beard. "It's poky."

"I know," he frowned, running his own fingers over it. "Being with you these last few days, I just haven't remembered to shave. I will make it a point to do so today."

"Now let's everybody calm down," I said, wrapping my hand around the back of his head. "We wouldn't want to do anything rash."

He knitted his eyebrows. "Hermione," he asked, almost sounding pleased. "Do you like it?"

"I've never seen you with face hair before, Professor Snape," I told him, running my hands over it. "I think it makes you look rather debonair, and _very _sexy," I told him with a big smile. "Huh," I added, musing. "Debonair, sexy… Two words I never thought would fall into the same sentence containing the name Professor Snape."

"Oh _really?_" he asked, gently pushing me off of his lap, where I fell onto my back. He was quickly hovering over me, his hands clamped around my sides, "Is that so, _Miss _Granger?" he asked as he began wriggling his fingers against my sides, and I began laughing like a child as he tickled me. "Never thought Professor Severus Snape could be sexy?" he asked, tickling me harder. My stomach hurt, I couldn't stop laughing!

"No!" I laughed. "Never!" my answers forced him to move his hands down to the bottom of my feet, and to the crook of my shoulders. "Professor Snape!" I giggled, trying to wiggle my way away from him. "Severus stop, I can't breathe!" I laughed. "Please, I give! You're the most sexy man who ever lived!" he pulled his hands away, satisfied. He loomed over me, watching me with a smile as I steadied my breathing. He leaned down and gave me a long, tender kiss, massaging his lips rhythmically with mine; our tongues exploring each other's mouths in synch.

"God you're beautiful," he said as he pulled his lips back. "Just so completely, unbelievably, breathtakingly beautiful," he ran his fingers through my hair, just staring down at me; his eyes darting each part of my face.

"Even my eyes?" I asked nervously, unblinking as I looked up at him.

"_Especially _your eyes," he told me, running his thumb over my forehead. "They are the gateway to your soul, and your soul is pure and precious and beautiful."

"And yours," I added softly, looking up at him and running my hand over his head. "Severus, I don't care what you say… I am the lucky one. I know what you did for all those years, pretending to be a spy for Voldemort, when all along you were the bravest of us all, on the good side of that horrid war. You made people hate you because they believed a lie, I did too – we all did. But in the end, when everything came out, the truth was out… and here I was all along, the person you were meant to be with… hating you. And all it took was a touch, and a kiss, and I never wanted anything else in life, nothing at all, other than to be with you.

"So no, Severus, don't say you are the lucky one… because I am. And I am the smartest witch of my age so don't you dare question it."

"Lest you forget my dear," he said before planting a kiss to my forehead. "That _I _was the brightest wizard of _my_ age."

"It would seem we are at an impasse, then."

"That," he shrugged. "Or, we could simply agree to disagree, or," he held up his finger. "Agree to just be, as one, the luckiest." I knew what all of this was: a distraction. It wasn't that neither of us weren't being at all serious about who indeed was luckier to be with the other person, but this was just one way to keep myself from thinking about the bigger issue: my PTSD – being tortured, beaten, raped. In the grand scheme of things at this very moment in time, this conversation was about as important as a fly landing on a wall in a hot classroom on a summer day: meaningless, pointless, but above all, it passed the time.

Remembering what happened to me while captive at Malfoy Manor, it was important, and it was something that I needed to do. But, in the other hand it made basic life all but impossible for me: I was terrified of men, scared of unexpected noises, nearly jumped out of my skin every time someone bumped into me; the mere sound of people whispering sent off my long chain of: it's time to get terrified, a new threat has presented itself! And not to mention the list of other things that made all reality crash around me, and my eyes, my ears, my thoughts, all of my senses think I was back at Malfoy Manor, on the floor in the large, cold room, waiting for them to come in again, waiting for them to-

"Darling?" Severus asked, his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me as if he were waiting for me to answer something, to say something back. I looked at him blankly, and his eyes fell: he knew I hadn't heard him. "I said, would you like to read the letters I have written to your family and friends before I send them out, or would you like me to just send them?"

"No," I told him, looking down, ashamed. "No, you can just send them. I trust you." Unexpectedly, I felt him pull me into his arms, and I snuggled my face into his chest. "I'm sorry," I told him. "I didn't meant to ignore you, I–"

"It's all right," he told me comfortingly, running his hands over my back. "It doesn't upset me when you can't hear me, Hermione. I just want you to let me know when you need me, even if it's just a memory, a bad dream… anything. Just say my name, and I will know to be there. To kiss you, to hold you, to do anything you need to be brought back to me. To be brought back, period. I haven't always been so full of myself, but with you, I seem to be the only thing – only person – that can reach you," I pulled my head from his chest, nodding. "Also, before I send out the letters, I wanted to ask you something. I was wondering if you were yet getting tired of being locked up in my room."

"Why would you think that? I've only been in here a few hours, a day at the most, haven't I..?" the way he looked at me told me I hadn't.

"Darling," he told me slowly, carefully. "Sweetheart… You were asleep for three days."

I couldn't see how I looked, but if I could imagine it, it would be something like an abstract painting; with my eyebrows so far up my forehead they were lost in my hairline, my jaw between my feet on the floor, and my eyes the size of baseballs. "Three days?" I asked him, baffled.

"You have been through so much, and remembering as much as you did, and _what_ you did… Alaric told me not to be surprised if something like that were to happen. It took a toll not just on your mind, but your body, as well. You needed the rest, and I dared not wake you because of how badly you needed it."

"Oh-okay," I nodded, wetting my lips with my tongue. "Yeah, I guess I could do with a stroll around the grounds. But what if-"

"You won't," he cut me off. "Everyone is asleep, the grounds – inside and out – are quite vacant. You have your ring, and most of the people who know about your condition wouldn't want to risk crossing your path until you are well anyways, and most reside their free time to their common rooms, the library, or outside in the Quidditch Pitch. I would come with you, but… If someone were to see us…"

"I know," I said, dropping my head. "I understand. Before we could take those risks; being seen, but now, seeing as you're my only safety… Before we could play off with only having a standard Teachers-student relationship if someone were to come around a corner, but, now, if I were to hear any noise at all, there would be no stopping me before I would jump into your arms. And I know you wouldn't stop me, either. We'd probably kiss right there if front of whoever it was, and then…" I let it hang in the air, too fearful to say it out loud.

"You don't have to go, darling, you can wait a few more days," he suggested. "I only suggested now because the grounds aren't filled with people. They are quiet, with hardly anyone around at all. I only suggested it so you could get some fresh air; apart from opening my windows, and stretch your legs, you don't have to darling, you don't."

"But I should," I told him. "The only way to heal is to live – not to barricade myself in your private room for the remainder of the school year. And," I added, holding up my ringed finger. "Like you said, I have the ring. You have it enchanted so anyone who means me harm can't come close to me, and if I even feel scared you'll feel it in your ring too, and you'll come find me. I will be safe. I will be fine." My words sounded convincing, my voice, not so much.

"I love you," he told me, leaning in to kiss me deeply. "I will never stop you from doing something you really want to do. I would only stop you if I felt it were unsafe… But, I can't think of a single reason to think that. And, not to mention the fact it was my idea in the first place," he mused. "How long will you be gone?"

I bit my lip, realization settling in on what I was about to do. "An hour," I decided. "Give or take a few minutes, but an hour. I think that sounds reasonable." I looked over at him for assurance, but he only stared, smiling.

"I am proud of you, Darling. This is moving forward." It was me who grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him towards me to kiss him. His warm lips kissed strength into me.

* * *

I took in a deep, long breath, as I stood on the outside side of Severus's classroom door. _I am proud of you, Darling. _He had said. _This is moving forward. _And he was right. I wouldn't live the rest of my life in fear because of what had been done to me.

Damn wonky visions and voices - to hell with them! They weren't real.

I ran my hand along the wall as I walked down the hall, keeping my fingers on solid objects to force my brain to realize and recognize what was real and what was unreal. I heard a laugh: a high-pitched, malevolent voice, ringing high and bouncing off the walls. I would know that laugh, that _voice_, anywhere… Bellatrix. But she could not be here- she was _dead._ Molly Weasley had killed her herself. The floor beneath me began to shudder, and I fell back against the wall as other familiar voices began to play with my hearing. I closed my eyes, squeezed them: I knew none of this was real, but I had to ride it out, had to pluck out the real from the memory:

"_Mudblood?" _the voice asked; deep and ominous; mocking the voice of Lucius Malfoy, ringing deeply, seductively in my ears. I fought off a scream. "_And what do you think you are doing out of your play pin? How did you manage to escape, Mudblood? Did you think that Draco and I were done with you, hm? Oh no, Mudblood, my son and I will _never _be done with you…" _My heart was hammering in my chest, I could barely breathe, but I forced myself to – just as Severus had taught me. _"We will _never be done with you…" his voice faded away in a long, soft whisper, like the sound of wind as it hissed thinly away through a crack in the glass, and it was gone.

I ran my hand over my face, and it was soaked with sweat. I wanted to go back to Severus, should go back, but I just kept pressing forward, fighting with the battle raging inside of my mind. It became all too real then, and again, I wanted to scream out: every nerve and sense in my body was telling me to belt out all of the breath I had in my lungs, but I remained silent. This was the memory, playing with me; all I had to do was ignore" it. Ignore it and it would go away.

The wind was still partially knocked out of me from when I had run into Draco, and I lay on my back, sprawled on the ground; my head fuzzy from hitting the wall. I had double vision, and there was two of him, looking over me. _"Oh, God,"_ I thought, looking up at him, and knowing what memory was about to play out. _"Not this one… any one but this one…" _

"Granger, Granger, Granger," the memory mocked, and I closed my eyes, refusing to watch it play out. "My favorite little Mudblood. So much prettier than all the rest," I could feel him beside me now, lying next to me on the ground. His fingers tracing over my cheeks, chin and forehead, lips. "_And so much better to fuck," _I bit my bottom lip; my fists clenched at my sides. He ripped open my shirt as he had done so many times before. I felt as he ran the tip of his nose along my nipples; trailing his tongue over my breasts. Letting out a heavy breath, he pulled his body onto mine, using my breasts as handles, squeezing painfully. I stayed perfectly still, waiting for this memory to finish and fade, as it had so many times before. He dropped my breasts, grabbing onto the base of my skirt he shoved it up over my stomach. Next, he pulled out his wand, illuminating the tip and pressing it to the top of my panties; I felt the burn as it singed away the material. He then ripped them off, flinging them across the hallway.

"Good little Mudblood," he laughed. "Finally, you've learned to keep quiet. Good. Good." He shoved himself painfully inside of me, grunting and moaning and gasping with each thrust. He took a handful of my hair into his hand, and a breast into the other, squeezing and pulling both painfully. He slammed himself into me, groaning for a long few seconds as he finished himself off inside of me. That familiar smile of satisfaction that I had seen so many times before; graced his lips. He looked down at me, running his fingers over my now matted hair. He pulled my head up by my hair, pressing his lips painfully against mine, and forcing my mouth open with his tongue. I wanted to bite it, but I dare not, with the memory of what happened the first – and last – time I did so.

"Huh," he mused as he dropped my head, looking into my eyes for the first time since the beginning of the memory began. "See you loved my eyes so much Mudblood, you just had to have one of your own."

As he pulled his clothes back on, I couldn't breathe. I looked down, my own clothes, they were torn, my hair ruffled as I reached back to feel it. I looked up, and Draco was walking away, a happy bounce to his stride. My eyes… He mentioned my eyes… the walls, the floor; there was no vibration before the memory started, no airy exit as it ended. And with sickening realization I remembered: memories aren't solid, only visual and have sound. I flipped myself over to my stomach and dry heaved.

That… Was… Not… A… Memory…

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9: The Unlucky One

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J. K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

* * *

**Feel**

Chapter Nine: The Unlucky One

**Severus's POV**

My ring was buzzing; pulsating with heat, nearly enough to burn a scar to my finger as I marched down the hallways, frantically searching for her. It was dark out here, much darker than it should have been, even with all of the torches lit; it was like there was a film over them, preventing them from shining to their full extent, and casting the inside of the castle into near-blackness.

I heard a thud, and a small voice cry out in short pain. I could hear crying, a nose being sniffled. Hermione. I rushed to her; she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest; her face hidden behind them. Her hair was messy and matted, and even in the darkness of the light I could see her clothes; torn and ruffled.

"Hermione," I said softly, and she jumped, letting out a cry of fear and cringing deeper into her corner of the wall. I slowly extended my hand to her, slowly pushing it further and further towards her. "Hermione, Darling, it's me…" I told her. "It's Severus."

Slowly, she pulled her eyes up to look over at me. I had never seen her look more terrified in her entire life that I knew her. "Severus?" she asked hoarsely. "Severus," she dropped her knees away, slowly allowing me to stroke her face. "Severus is that really you?" silent tears were streaming down her cheeks in rivulets. "I can't tell; I can't tell anything anymore."

"Yes, darling, yes, it is me," I told her, my voice soft. "My ring started burning, and I came to find you as quickly as I could," a sob left her throat, and she flung her arms around me, hugging me tighter than she ever had – her small arms, making it difficult for me to breathe.

"I thought it was just a memory," she cried against me, and I picked her up as I would a child, and began making our way back to my private room. "I thought it was just a memory Severus… but it wasn't… it wasn't… they always feel so real… I thought it was just a memory…"

"Darling, what do you mean?" I asked as I set her onto the end of my bed, handing her a box of tissues, once she had calmed down enough to be coherent. "What do you mean it wasn't a memory?"

"Severus," she dropped the tissue she had been using to dab at her eyes, and looked at me. "I had had the same memory play out like it was real, so many times… I just thought if I lay there, it would play out, and go away, as it had so many times before.

"Can you please come sit beside me, Severus, hold me…"? I did, and she went on, trembling in my arms. "Only this time… instead of the vision, the memory, just fading away into mist, and then nothing… He… Draco… He commented on my eyes – how I loved his so much I had to have one of my own - and he just got up and walked away…" she looked up at me, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "And my clothes, my hair… between my legs is burning… Severus, Severus, I think he… I think he came back… Severus," she looked down, keeping her eyes from mine as she went on, softly. "Severus… I think I was raped again…" her voice broke, and she fell against me, clutching her hands over her eyes. "God, I feel like I am loosing my mind Severus; I can't tell real from unreal!

"When you first found me, I didn't even know where I was: at school? In Malfoy Manor? I just didn't know… I could hear Bellatrix laughing, Lucius breathing; feel his hands running over me… Severus, please, please just tell me I am not going crazy." It was a plea; she was terrified, I could see it and sense it in every inch of her. "I should be able to tell if something is just a memory, or if something is really happening, shouldn't I?" she cried. "Oh, Severus, please…" she began sobbing again, and I pulled her up into my lap.

I wanted to tell her that she was fine - as fine as she could be - that her inability to distinguish memories from reality was normal for people suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Having flashbacks so real it was like you were living them all over again; sights, sounds, smells, physical feelings… it was all so real it was almost impossible to tell the difference at times. I wanted to tell her all this, I wanted to just hold her and kiss her and promise her it would all go away, that I would make it stop… But that would be a lie, and that was something I could never do to Hermione; lie to her, even if I wanted to, I couldn't, and I never would want to. But Merlin, how badly I wished I _could _just make all of this stop. I wanted to take away her pain, her suffering, her fear, and her memories… I wanted to take it all. I would take them all as my own, if it meant meaning her never having to again.

"Severus," she cried, pulling at the back of my robe as she hugged onto me. "Severus I love you, I just want this to stop, I just want all of this to stop!"

"I love you," I told her, squeezing her and hugging her tightly against me. "I love you so very much, Hermione. I can't stand seeing you in this pain," and I just held her and held her and held her.

It took her over an hour and a half to calm down enough to speak again, and when she was calm, she asked to take a shower. I stood outside the door the entire time, paranoid to be at all away from her anymore, and not ready enough to ask if she wanted me to join her. She had just been raped for the Merlin-only-knows-how-many time, and I knew it would be a while until she was ready to be intimate with me again, and I didn't mind at all. The only thing I was able to focus on since all of this began apart from protecting her and loving her, was killing both Draco and his father. Bellatrix would also be on my hit list, if it weren't for Molly Weasley already completing that task.

When she was done with her shower, she asked to borrow some of my clothes, and I let her borrow anything she wanted or needed. She ended up in a pair of my black socks, black boxers and a black ribbed wifebeater undershirt. She crawled into my bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, and taking my normal side of the bed, explaining, "it smells like you." She asked me to make her a potion to drink that would make her pass out dreamlessly, and I did so, already having the exact potion ready for a moment like this. She asked me to hold her until the potion knocked her out, and I crawled into the bed behind her, pulling her into my arms and stroking her damp hair. She was out in less than five minutes.

I stayed with her for a while, watching her and admiring her beauty, relishing and being so thankful for these times of peace that I could give her, as they were so rare lately. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I was so lucky to have her for so many reasons. If Draco ever crossed my path, he would be so _un_lucky for so many reasons.

I ran my hand over her head, and kissed her temple. "I love you, my darling," I whispered to her, kissing her temple once more. The potion would last for at least six hours; with the amount I had given her, which would give her a nice long rest from reality, and memory. I ran my hand over her arm before pulling myself away from the bed.

* * *

After using every single locking spell, charm, enchantment and incantation I knew or could think of on the entirety of my room, office, and classroom, I forced myself away from them, and my sleeping beauty, knowing she would be safe inside my wards, and still be asleep by the time I got back.

It was only out of sheer luck I ran into him almost instantly after leaving her.

"Severus!" he smiled gleefully.

"Mister Malfoy," I smiled back. "What an absolute _pleasant_ surprise it is to see you, and at such an odd hour. I did not know what had become of you, or your family, after the war. Are you planning on coming back to make up for your lost year, then?" I walked up to him, forcing my hand to stay away from my wand, and instead balling my hands together at my waist. "And your father and mother, how are they?"

"Yeah, well, we weren't exactly on the _good _side of the war, you know? We've been hiding for a bit, just to be cautious. And no, absolutely not am I coming back here to school – I am above that now," he said superiorly. "Much too old and mature."

"You are the same age of your year, Mister Malfoy, and more than half of them have returned to finish off their schooling." I said, taking my last step towards him, now close enough to touch. Exactly where I wanted to be.

"Mother and father have been well," he went on, ignoring me. "They miss you though, wonder why you haven't written or stopped by. But, you know, then again we have been in hiding, so that may have something to do with it."

"Indeed," I said slowly, unclasping my hands. "Run into anybody else while visiting this evening?"

"Oh, yeah, you know, here and there."

"Hm," I mused. "How very odd, as every one is asleep at this hour. And how very odd also, that you managed to get onto the grounds, as you are no longer a pupil."

"Well, we all have our ways," he smiled. "Seems you managed to keep your job here, after the way you acted during the war. Seems we're all full of mysteries."

"Mysteries, Indeed, Mister Malfoy," I said, looking down to the floor, then back up to meet his eyes. "Who was it, exactly, that you ran into at this hour? As I said, everybody is asleep, student and staff alike, and I would like to know if a detention is in order, or if it was merely another teacher taking a leisurely midnight stroll?"

It took him a moment to answer. "Don't want to get anybody into trouble now," he said. "But, rules are rules."

"Indeed," I said. "Go on, as you have made it obvious it was not a teacher."

"No," he chuckled. "No, no, actually… It was Granger," he said, looking over at me. I placed my hand onto his shoulder, gripping it with some strength. "Old Hermione, we had some catching up to do, some unfinished business to attend," my hold on his shoulder tightened.

"I see," I nodded, holding back from squeezing any tighter. "And what _exactly _was it that you two had to catch up on? As you were such great friends while here at Hogwarts," I added sarcastically.

"Well," he began. "We're young, youthful, as you know. We've got a bit of history, and we had some _catching up_ to do. Oh, whoa," he cringed, chuckling. "You've got quite a grip there, Severus," he said, looking at my hand around his shoulder. "Think you might want to ease up a bit, it's just sex."

"Sex," I said, tightening my grip still. "Sex, Mister Malfoy, would indicate that both participants are ready and willing. There is another word for when someone forces himself onto another. But of course you already knew that, didn't you?" I asked. "Or do I need to spell it out for you?" The nerve, the gull for him to possibly think he could speak of my Hermione like she were just another girl in heat all the time, ready for a jump whenever he called, whether or not she wanted it. "Hm?" I asked again.

"Severus, ow! You're hurting me! Would you let go!" he demanded. And let go I did. I gripped my hand as tightly as I could around his shoulder, making the skin around my knuckles bone-white. I threw my hand and an angle, releasing him and causing him to crash into the stone wall.

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

He was not as light as Hermione, but was still not that difficult to lift and navigate my way around the castle. I opened the main door, and closed it behind us, and headed off into the distance with an unconscious Draco in my arms.

When he started to become heavy, I simply dropped him, and not gently, onto the ground. He groaned unconsciously. I looked down to see his head had landed on a rock, whoops. That one would hurt when he woke up… along with all of the others he had not yet obtained.

Looking around out of habit, I landed my foot swiftly into his navel. Hard. He grunted, still not waking. And so, I kicked him again. And again, and again.

I used my foot to roll him onto his back, and evaluated him. I decided another nice spot would be on his side, right at his hip. Three more times I kicked at his unconscious body, and then stepped over him, to add three more to the other side of him. Couldn't have him out of balance now, could I?

I bent down beside his head, and slapped my hand across his cheek. "Wake up," I told him. "Mister Malfoy, wake – up," I said, with two more slaps. He groaned, slowly opening his eyes.

"Bloody hell," he complained, grabbing at all the areas I had kicked; stomach, both sides. "What happened?"

"Oh, you took a nasty fall," I told him. "Get up," I demanded, ripping at the collar of his shirt and forcing him onto his feet. "Say it."

"Say what?" he asked. "What are you talking about?" he groaned, looking up at me through slanted eyes. He was bent over, hand clutched at his stomach.

I closed my eyes, growing quickly impatient. "Miss Granger suffers greatly from what you did, not just tonight, you bastard, but from when you and your father and your aunt had her locked up at Malfoy Manor," I told him, and shock washed over his face. "Oh yes, Mister Malfoy, she remembers everything now. The torture, the abuse, the beatings… the _rapes _you and your father did to her. Now that everything is cleared up, say it."

"What?"

"Admit it."

He was laughing, blood splattered around his lips, most likely from all the kicks to the stomach. "You want me to say it?" he asked. "Fine, I'll say it. I'll admit what we did: We raped her. Over, and over, and over, and over again. We did it all the time; sometimes we couldn't even stop! We took turns, we enjoyed it so much, she was _that _good, we made an occasion out of it! We made father-son rape mudblood days! And that's why I came back! To find her, and to do it again, and I _did._ And you know what? I am going to keep doing it, again, and again, and again, because she is so bloody messed up from it all she can't even tell if it is even me, or one of the memories! Oh yeah," he said. "I know she has PTSD from it; I could tell when I was looking her in the eye, pounding into her earlier. She couldn't even tell I was really there, and I enjoyed _every moment of it until I came inside of her_."

He didn't have time to respond; my fist was flying through the air, landing onto the side of his face, before he could say another word. He stammered back, laughing. I was on him again, pounding my fist again onto the side of his cheek. Eventually, he fell back, and I threw myself on top of him, he didn't even try to defend himself. I slammed my fist onto every part of him I could see.

By the time I was finished, I was out of breath, and his head was so bloody, bruised and swollen he couldn't even open his mouth. I grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and closed my face in on his. "If I ever see you near her again," I warned. "Or ever hear of you coming near hear again, ever hurting her again, you or your father, the both of you will wish you had never been born, and tonight will have just been a nice chat over tea." I shoved him back down to the ground, pulling myself up to my feet. "I swear to Merlin, if you or your father ever come near her again, I will kill you both."

I began walking away, looking down at my hands; my knuckles were all bruised and cut up and bleeding. "You're in love with her," I heard him say, and stopped only for a moment. I didn't bother to respond or look back, and just kept on walking until I was back at the castle.

* * *

"Severus!" Hermione cried as I entered into my room, completely panicked, tears running down her cheeks. "Severus, God, I woke up, and you weren't here!" she ran at me, flinging her arms around me. "I was so scared when I woke up and you weren't here," she cried softly. She pulled her head away from my chest and looked up at me. "You're so cold, why are you so cold?"

"I was outside, love," I said, bringing my hand up to place over her cheek. "Everything is all right, darling. I am here now, you're safe," as I moved my hand to her face, she noticed the blood, and caught my hand.

"You're bleeding, Severus, what happened?" she asked. "Come on, lets get you fixed up," pulling me behind her, she took me over to my bed and sat me down, taking a seat beside me. She opened up my bottom nightstand table drawer, pulling out my potions box. She set my hand into her lap while unscrewing my bottle of healing potion. I bit back a hiss as she dropped the potion across my knuckles.

Once she was done, and I was all fixed up, she took my hands into hers. "I know I shouldn't have woken up, not with the amount of potion you gave me," she said. "But it's like I could _feel _that you were gone… and I just woke up.

"Severus, where were you tonight?"

I took a moment before answering her. "Hermione," I said. "Darling, my one and only love… You have nothing to be scared of anymore" I cupped my hand around her cheek, and she leaned into my touch, running her hand up and placing it over mine.

"Draco," she said. "He really was here? He really did…"

"Hermione," I said again, pulling her against me. "You have _nothing _to worry about anymore. It is all taken care of; I will never let anything, or anyone, touch you, ever again. I promise you my love."

For long moments we just sat there, holding each other. "Come on," she said softly, tugging at me. "Lets get you into bed, warmed up."

And for the first night since our first time, we made love.

**To be continued…**


End file.
